Political Capital
by lcf328
Summary: Two years into the Santos administration, and times are good. Josh and Donna have just gotten married. The Democrats have taken control of congress. But someone from Donna's past threatens to cause trouble for both her and the administration. J/D, S/A
1. Prologue

**A/N: **I'm sure it will come as a shock to everyone to discover that I don't own any of the characters from "The West Wing".

**A/N: **Rating will go up to T in future chapters, mainly due to some descriptions of violence and sensitive subject matter.

**A/N: **Don't know if this deserves a note or not, but there is some discussion of religion in this story. It's not meant in any way to be offensive or controversial, but if it's not your cup of tea, you can skip over it and understand the rest of the story just fine

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Do you, Joshua Lyman, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for all the days of your life?"

"I do."

"Do you, Donnatella Moss, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for all the days of your life?"

"I do."

"The rings, please."

Sam, Josh's best man, and Ainsley, Donna's maid of honor, stepped forward, and each presented one of the rings to the pastor, who held them out to the couple.

"Josh, put Donna's ring on and repeat after me: I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine."

"I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine," he said as he placed the ring on Donna's finger, gazing at her tenderly.

"Donna, put Josh's ring on and repeat after me: I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine."

"I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine," she struggled to keep her voice steady, tears brimming in her eyes as she placed the ring on Josh's finger.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Josh lost no time in doing so as the guests applauded. Then the Rabbi placed a wine glass, wrapped in a decorative purple pouch, at Josh's feet. Josh smashed it firmly with his shoe. He could clearly make out Toby's voice among several others in the audience yelling "Mazel Tov!"

Josh looked out at the guests in attendance. In the front row, his mother and Donna's parents were accompanied by the First Family and former First Family: President Santos, Helen Santos, their children Miranda and Peter, along with former President Bartlet, Abbey Bartlet, Zoey and Charlie, who had been married the previous year, Ellie and Vic, and Elizabeth, who had recently divorced Doug after she'd caught him having yet another affair. Numerous other friends were also in attendance.

The format of the ceremony had been a source of much discussion between him and Donna. What was the wedding of a Jewish man and a Protestant woman supposed to look like? Since neither he nor Donna had been particularly devout in their respective faiths for quite some time, they had initially considered a secular ceremony, but that hadn't felt right to either of them. Finally, they'd settled on an interfaith service. Donna's pastor from her home church in Wisconsin, and the Rabbi from the Temple in Connecticut that Josh had grown up in, had agreed to co-officiate. They had decided to hold both the wedding and the reception at the Hilton Garden Inn, and the service had combined traditional aspects of both Jewish and Christian wedding ceremonies. Josh felt that the service had turned out beautifully. He could tell that Donna felt the same way, as he watched her wipe happy tears from her eyes as their guests filed out of the room and made their way toward the reception hall.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, was it everything you imagined your wedding would be when you were a little girl?" Josh asked as he and Donna danced at the reception.

She smiled. "Well, I never imagined my parents would have to go through a Secret Service screening just to get into my wedding. Then again, I never imagined there would be two Presidents at my wedding. But other than that-" she paused and touched Josh's cheek. "It's better. Mainly because of the guy I got to marry."

"Really? I heard he could be kind of a jerk sometimes."

"He can be. But he's my jerk." She smiled and pulled him closer, resting her head on his shoulder as they swayed together to the music.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later in the evening, President Bartlet came up to Josh and gave him a hug. "Congratulations, Josh."

"Thank you, sir."

"And here I thought now that I'd served my eight years in the White House, and left office and moved back to New Hampshire, I might finally get my first name back."

Josh grinned. "No such luck."

"Do you know even Charlie still calls me sir? He's my son in law now, for heaven's sake, and he still won't address me by my first name."

"I can imagine."

"Although maybe there's something to be said for all sons in law addressing their fathers in law as 'sir'. It might just make the world a better place."

"Yes, sir."

Jed chuckled and shook his head. "Anyway, I think I see Abbey waving at me. Congratulations again, Josh."

"Thank you, sir."

Sam walked up and joined Josh. "So how does it feel to be a married man?"

"I think I could get used to it," Josh smiled. "Thanks for the toast."

"I meant every word." Sam nodded. "I'm just glad all my 'best man' nightmares are over. I didn't lose the ring, or do anything else for that matter to make a fool of myself."

"I'm sure all the late-night comics wish you had. They'd have had material for weeks."

Sam laughed, and then shook his head. "Who'd have thought that of the two of us, you'd be the one getting married first?"

Josh's smile faded. Sam and his fiancée had broken up about six months ago after an extended and rocky engagement. He suddenly hoped it hadn't been too hard on Sam, being a part of a wedding that wasn't his.

Sam himself seemed to suddenly realize what he'd said. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to – I had a great time today. I'm so happy for you and Donna."

"Thanks." Josh patted his shoulder. "And I know you'll find the right woman."

"That's what people say."

"Hey, if Donna hadn't walked into the Bartlet campaign headquarters eleven years ago and pretended she already had a job there, I'm pretty sure I'd have stayed a bachelor my whole life."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better about my own prospects?"

"Well, you're better with women than I am. You should have no problem."

"So far I'm at two failed engagements and counting. How do you figure?"

Josh was about to answer when the music changed. Ainsley walked up and extended a hand to Sam. "May I have this dance?"

"Sure," he smiled and took her in his arms as they began dancing to the music.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I don't believe this," Donna declared with a laugh as she picked up a copy of _People_ magazine at the airport. She and Josh were returning from their honeymoon in Hawaii to the discovery that a wedding picture of the two of them graced the cover of the new issue of _People_ magazine.

"Apparently we're 'America's Favorite Power Couple' now," Josh observed, reading the headline in bold print on the front of the magazine.

"At least they picked a good picture," Donna remarked as she brought the magazine to the counter and paid for it. She and Josh headed out of the airport, along with their Secret Service agents, and got into the car that was waiting for them.

"Just as long as they don't try to 'smoosh' our names," Josh commented. "I mean, to what? Jonna? Or Doshua?"

"Joshatella!" Donna giggled.

"Oh, God, please don't let that stick."

Donna laughed as she began flipping through the magazine.

"Apparently, not only are we America's favorite power couple, but we're also role models for interfaith couples everywhere," she observed. In addition to the feature story with lots of wedding photos and juicy tidbits about their relationship, there was a side article about the interfaith nature of their wedding. The article detailed the ceremony and discussed the challenges couples often faced in interfaith marriages. Progressive Jewish and Christian leaders, as well as several couples in interfaith marriages, were quoted as applauding their interfaith wedding ceremony as helping to promote religious acceptance and inclusiveness. More traditional religious leaders from both faith traditions, however, bemoaned the ceremony, accusing them of having diluted both religions, and questioned the advisability of couples entering into interfaith marriages at all.

Donna sighed. Maybe she and Josh should have gone with a secular service after all. The truth was, she'd never really thought of the two of them as an "interfaith couple", and the label felt strange to her now. She wasn't sure she was thrilled with the idea of them becoming the country's interfaith marriage poster couple. She had always considered herself Christian, but she hadn't been a regular church attender in quite some time. The pat several years, it had been rare for her to go even on Easter or Christmas Eve. She wasn't necessarily sure what she believed about God or Jesus. As for Josh, she knew his Jewish identity was important to him, but he rarely discussed it, and he'd never really talked to her in any depth about the spiritual aspects of his religion – what he believed about God. Maybe because of that, she'd never seen their different religious backgrounds as any big deal. But apparently to many people, it was a big deal.

The car drove past the White House on the way to the condo they'd purchased together.

"Back to work tomorrow," Donna sighed.

Josh nodded. "The new congress gets sworn in next week. What'll that be like? Democrats controlling the House, Senate, and the White House. The President's approval ratings are topping 60%. All the stuff we wanted to do under President Bartlet and never could because of the Republican congress – we might actually be able to do some of it now."

"I think it's going to be a good year," Donna smiled and squeezed Josh's hand as the car pulled into the parking lot of their condo.


	2. Chapter 1

"I think it's time. We have to go for it. We may never get another opportunity." Sam insisted as he, Josh, Lou, Press Secretary Jennifer Gordon, and Otto, who had recently been promoted to Deputy Communications Director, sat in the Oval Office with President Santos.

"53 Democratic votes in the Senate. It may not be enough." Josh frowned.

"We'd have killed for 53 votes in the Senate under Bartlet," Sam pointed out. "Or for the first two years of this administration."

"That doesn't mean we can do whatever we want. The Republicans are going to filibuster it," Josh argued.

"The Senate Democrats are open to trying to use the reconciliation process in order to block a filibuster."

"Might work. Might not." Josh cautioned.

"The United States is the only industrialized nation that doesn't guarantee all its citizens access to health care," President Santos reminded all of them of what they already knew. "It's a national embarrassment. Fixing it can't wait until there are 60 Democrats in the Senate and a Democrat in the White House at the same time. That may never happen. We need to make the case to the American people now. Maybe even shame some Republicans into supporting it."

"The proposal is beautiful in its simplicity," Josh acknowledged. "Just delete the words 'over 65' from the Medicare statute. Easy to explain to voters. It won't be one of those bills that makes people's heads swim when they try to understand it."

"That'll make it easier to sell," Lou agreed.

"We got the education bill passed last year with a Republican majority in the Senate," Otto pointed out. "I mean, I know we didn't get everything we wanted, but…"

"Yeah, but a lot of the President's education proposals were actually appealing to Republicans," Jennifer argued. "That fact caused him more than a little trouble in the primaries, as we all know. Health care's going to be a whole different ball game. Prepare to hear the words 'socialized medicine' at least 50 times a day."

"Then make them explain why 'socialized medicine' is good for people over 65 but not for anyone younger," Sam responded.

"Maybe that's actually a sign of improvement – them calling us socialists," Matt commented half-jokingly. "It used to be the L-word – liberal – that they loved to trot out. You don't hear that one so much anymore. I think they've realized that calling us 'liberal' doesn't scare people the way it used to, so they've upped the ante to 'socialist'."

"Well, you shot down the L-word scare tactics pretty masterfully during your debate with Vinick," Josh smiled.

Sam nodded. "I've never been prouder to be a Democrat than I was watching that debate."

Josh took a deep breath. "I'm not saying I don't think we should do this, sir, but one thing to keep in mind is that if we make a big push and come up short, it'll cost us a lot of political capital and make us look weak at just about the time your re-election campaign will be gearing up."

"If I'm going to shrink from an important fight because I'm worried it might hurt my re-election campaign, I don't have any business being President anyway."

"By that reasoning, we've had a lot of Presidents who didn't have any business being President," Josh grimaced.

"I have no doubt," Matt responded.

"So how do we sell it?" Josh asked. "The House shouldn't be a problem, but the Senate…even among the Democrats, I'm not sure how many votes we can count on. It's going to be close at best."

"The single best asset we have in selling this bill is you, Mr. President," Sam said to President Santos. "Your approval ratings are high, and your 'personal likeability' ratings are even higher. Every senator who's wavering on the bill, I say the President hits their state. He should hold town halls, give speeches, and convince the voters that we need to fix health care in this country. Then let the people pressure their senators to get on board."

"Could work," Josh nodded. Maybe it really was time. It had been well over a decade since there had been any serious attempt at health care reform, and in that time, insurance had gotten vastly more expensive and harder to get. The number of uninsured had skyrocketed. Maybe the country was finally ready for real solution.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_"I'm so humbled and honored to have been elected to serve in this way," Sean Lamb, the newly-sworn in Republican congressman from Wisconsin, told a CNN reporter. He was standing with a woman who the caption at the bottom of the screen identified as his wife. "I can't wait to get down to the business of helping to move our country in the right direction."_

"Oh, bite me. Asshole." Donna snapped bitterly at the television, leaning against Josh slightly. It was late in the evening, and they were watching some CNN together before going to bed. It was her old district in Wisconsin that had elected Sean Lamb. The former family doctor had never held any previous political office, but he'd been an active volunteer for the Republican Party for several years. His cousin, Bruce, lived in Washington DC, and the two men were like brothers. Sean had visited the city frequently over the years to spend time with Bruce, which had helped lead to him catching the political bug.

Sean had campaigned on the theme that he "wasn't a politician" and that he could relate to the concerns of everyday citizens. And who couldn't love a family doctor? It had worked. Donna had donated the maximum contribution to his opponent and had hoped against hope that Sean would lose, but he hadn't. His election had been the one dark spot for her in an otherwise fantastic midterm election night, in which the Democrats had taken control of the Senate and expanded their majority in the House.

Maybe she should have done more than just donate money. Maybe she should have taken a leave of absence to work on his opponent's campaign. She knew that might have raised some eyebrows in the media, and plus, being involved with that congressional race would have forced her to think about Sean every day, which she wasn't sure she could have handled. But the thought of that man sitting in congress…

Josh looked at her, surprised by her reaction. "What's wrong with him? I mean, I know he's a Republican, which I suppose is bad enough, but…"

"He…" she paused for a moment. "He's not qualified. Not even close. He was a doctor until he decided to run for congress. How does he figure he's going to have any clue how to do the job?"

"Let me guess," Josh looked at her teasingly. "Claiming working as a family doctor qualifies you to be in congress is like me saying I'm a foreign relations expert because I ordered Kung Pao last night."

"Shut up, Josh!" she snapped. The tension she'd felt the second she'd seen Sean's face on the television exploded, with Josh as its victim. "I said I don't think he's qualified. He's from my old district, so I should know. But no, you have to make fun of me, just like you always do. Okay, yes, you picked the right guy in the primaries, and I didn't. You're never going to let me forget that, are you? I guess I must just be stupid, right?" By the time she'd finished, she was nearly crying.

Josh stared at her, stunned and confused. "Donna, geez. I was just kidding. I didn't-"

"I know. I'm sorry." she sighed, already feeling embarrassed by her tirade. She knew she couldn't expect Josh to understand why this upset her so much. "I didn't mean to…I just-" she stopped talking and put her hands over her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to hide the fact that she was wiping away tears.

"Donna, what is it?"

"It's…nothing."

"It's not nothing. You're crying. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she repeated. "I'm just…I'm tired. It's been a long day, that's all. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Donna-"

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then stood up and turned off the TV. "I'm going to bed. Coming?"

He nodded and followed her into the bedroom, concern and bewilderment written on his face.


	3. Chapter 2

"Want some company?" Sam walked up to Ainsley, who was eating alone in the Mess. He realized how infrequently he actually got to see her, even though they worked in the same building. They'd spent some time together over the past few months, though, helping with the preparations for Josh and Donna's wedding, which had reminded Sam of how much he enjoyed being around her, despite the fact that her political views drove him up the wall – or maybe even partly because of that fact.

"Sure," she gave him a smile.

He sat down next to her. "So how's everything going in the Counsel's office?"

"Great. We just hired a new associate counsel. A guy named Brian."

Sam grinned. "So how's he liking the steam pipe trunk distribution venue?"

"Oh no," Ainsley shook her head. "One of my first executive decisions upon taking this job was that the steam pipe trunk distribution venue would not be used for anything other than…well, steam. He has a regular office, with a window and everything. You know, I don't know why you guys couldn't have done that for me."

"Hey, don't blame me. I wasn't the one who assigned the offices."

"I know," she nodded, and then paused for a minute, nibbling on her muffin. "So I hear the President's going to make a big push for government-run health care."

"It's called Medicare, and we already have it, and it's pretty popular in this country in case you haven't noticed. So popular he wants to expand it to all citizens."

"He doesn't have the votes to get it passed. Not even with the new Senate."

"Well, we won't know till we try, will we?"

"It's socialized medicine. Why do liberals think government can solve every problem?"

"You know, contrary to the stereotype, we don't think government can solve every problem. But we do think it can help solve some problems. And socialized medicine? Come on, Ainsley, you can do better than that. You can't just plop the word 'socialized' in front of every government program in order to bash it. I'm actually glad we have 'socialized' police departments, and 'socialized' fire departments, and 'socialized' schools. Why should health care be any different? How can you think that in a decent, compassionate society only the wealthy should have access to something as basic as health care?"

Ainsley sighed. "There you go again, with yet another insinuation that Republicans are mean and only care about rich people. It's not true, Sam. Just because we don't trust the government as much as you do doesn't mean we don't care."

He sighed. "You know, you keep saying that. Us big bad liberals think all conservatives are mean. Well, if you and your fellow Republicans don't want to be considered mean, maybe you guys should stop advocating for policies that hurt people. How can you be okay with the fact that there are millions of people out there right now ignoring serious health symptoms because they don't have insurance and they can't afford to go to the doctor? Or that there are people facing bankruptcy because they can't afford to pay for their cancer treatments? Those things don't bother you?"

"Of course they bother me. I'm just not sure the solution is to make a big government bureaucracy even bigger. Do you have any idea of the regulations that the government imposes on health insurance companies? Maybe if some of those were relaxed, health insurance would be more affordable. And then tax credits could be provided to help people buy insurance on the private market. No bureaucracy involved."

"Those regulations are there for a reason – to prevent insurance companies from weaseling out of paying for expensive treatments. And no Republican to date has proposed a health care tax credit that would be anywhere near enough for a struggling family to afford private health insurance. Not to mention that tax credits do nothing for people with pre-existing conditions who insurance companies don't want to cover at any price."

She shook her head. "Sam Seaborn, you are one of the most maddening people I have ever met in my life."

"Because you know I'm right. Come on, admit it. Your secret's safe with me."

She was quiet for a moment. "I believe in limited government, but I will admit it's a big problem, and so far the free market by itself doesn't seem to have offered a solution. If President Santos can convince me that the government can do a better job than private insurance companies, maybe I'll listen. But you'll notice he hasn't told us yet how much he's going to have to raise the Medicare tax to pay for this scheme of his."

"It'll be a lot less than people are paying to the insurance companies now, I can tell you that much."

"We'll see. Hey, are you going to eat both those cookies?" She glanced at the two chocolate chip cookies on his plate.

"Help yourself," he smiled as she grabbed one of the cookies and took a bite. "I don't know how you can eat all that junk and stay so skinny."

She shrugged. "Fast metabolism, I guess."

"I guess."

"So do you want to go out for dinner sometime?" Ainsley asked in a casual tone that caught Sam off guard.

"What?"

"Dinner. You know, a restaurant, food, conversation. I'm not picky about where we go as long as they have an above-average bread basket."

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"If you want to call it that."

"I…well…" he paused, and then finally smiled. "Yes, I'd love to have dinner with you sometime."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is Donna Lyman," Donna answered her own phone since her assistant, David, was out running an errand for her. Using her new married name still made her smile.

"You haven't returned my voice mails."

"Who is this?" Donna asked, although she knew the answer to that question. Sean had left her at least half a dozen voice mails in the three days since he'd been sworn in, all of which she'd deleted as soon as she'd heard his voice.

"It's Sean."

There was a long, tense silence. She briefly considered hanging up on him, but she forced herself to remember that she was a professional, Helen Santos' chief of staff. And Sean was a congressman. However much she disliked him, it would reflect poorly on the First Lady for her to behave immaturely in any way.

"What can I do for you, Congressman?" she asked flatly.

"Please, no need for formalities. Not between us. I'm Sean to you."

"Is there something I can help you with, Congressman?"

"Fine, if you're going to be that way…" he paused. "Yes, there is. I'd like to meet with you at your earliest convenience."

"Regarding what?"

"Just something you need to be aware of."

"Can you be more specific? My schedule's awfully busy."

"Trust me, Donna, you'll want to meet with me. I can either tell you this personally or you can hear it on CNN. But I don't think the President would be very happy about the latter."

She wasn't sure exactly what he was getting at, but she didn't like the sound of it. She felt a knot form in her stomach.

"Fine," she finally conceded.

"How's this afternoon?"

_Talk about arrogance!_ She fumed silently. He just assumed she would clear her schedule for him at a moment's notice. Still, she mused, maybe it was best to get it over with. She knew she was going to have a hard time focusing on anything else until she'd gotten this meeting out of the way.

"Fine. I can fit you in at 3:30." Her voice was sharp and cold.

"I'll be there."

She hung up the phone and rubbed her eyes. She should have told Josh the truth the other night. Or at the very least, the partial truth. Rather than yelling at him over nothing like a crazy person, she should have just told him that Sean Lamb was her ex-boyfriend from Wisconsin, the guy Josh not-so-affectionately knew as "Dr. Freeride".

But what would he have thought then? Wouldn't he have wondered why a guy she'd broken up with more than a decade ago could still get to her like that? He might even have thought…she shivered. Josh might even have thought she still had feelings for Sean. The thought made her ill.

She sighed. She'd told Josh so many stupid lies about "Dr. Freeride". That she'd slipped on ice. No, wait, that she'd had a car accident. And he'd stopped for a beer on the way to the hospital, and that had been why she'd broken up with him. Where had she come up with that one, anyway? True, it had given her the opportunity to come closer than she ever had at that point to telling Josh how she felt about him – "if you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for red lights" – but it was still an awfully silly story when she thought about it. Sean had been a jerk and she'd dumped him – that had been what she'd wanted to communicate to Josh that evening. And that much had been true. The fact that she'd had to fib a little bit – okay, a lot – about the details had seemed reasonable to her at the time. She hadn't wanted to tell Josh the real story because it had still been upsetting to her, and she'd still felt humiliated by it, and because Josh probably would have gone ballistic. Looking back, she wished she had just told him the truth then, but she hadn't. And now…

Now there was no way she could tell him. It wouldn't be fair. He was the White House Chief of Staff. There might be situations where he would have to work with Congressman Lamb. She didn't know if he'd be able to do that if he knew the truth. It was bad enough that she was being put in that position – having to work professionally with someone she could barely stand to look at. She couldn't subject Josh to that as well.

At least that was the excuse she was currently using. But although there might be some validity to it, the truth was that she also really didn't want to have to tell Josh she'd been lying to him for all these years about something like this.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So something strange happened today," Sam told Josh as they walked down the hall.

"What?"

"Ainsley asked me out."

"Ainsley Hayes?"

"Yeah."

"As in, 'the town of Kirkwood is in California, not Oregon'?"

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Not likely."

"Well, it was a fluke. I want a rematch with her on Capital Beat. Topic: the President's Medicare plan. I kicked her ass debating that with her over lunch. I bet even she'd agree."

"Somehow I don't think Lou would sign off on a member of the administration going on TV and arguing against the President's agenda."

"I guess when you put it that way, probably not."

"So are you going out with her?" Josh asked.

"Yeah, I think so." He paused. "There's no…rule against the Deputy Chief of Staff dating the White House Counsel, is there? I mean, I'm not her boss and she's not my boss, so I don't see why there would be…"

"I don't think so," Josh shrugged. "I mean, you know, I'd suggest you run it by the Counsel's office, but…"

"Yeah."

"On the other hand, the controversy that could ensue when the world finds out you're dating a Republican…"

"You think we might get letters?"

"Oh yeah," Josh laughed. "You should see the letters Donna and I get. People tell us we've desecrated Judaism and/or Christianity with our wedding service. Donna gets accused of setting the women's movement back 50 years by taking my last name. Everyone has an opinion. It's insane."

Sam nodded. "So you gotta figure…a mixed-political affiliation relationship – I guess that's about as controversial as you can get in Washington."

Josh nodded. "So you really like her?"

"She's fun to argue with."

"That's it?"

"And she's pretty. And charming. And I forget all about Marissa when I'm around her."

"That's a start."

Sam nodded and headed into his office, his mind still reeling somewhat. He liked Ainsley, there was no denying that. She was gorgeous, and friendly, and smart. There was the Republican thing, of course, but maybe he could get past that. _Or not just 'get past it'_, he mused. Maybe that was actually part of her appeal. All he knew for sure was that just thinking about her put a smile on his face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Donna?" David poked his head into her office. "Congressman Lamb is here to see you."

She rubbed her forehead. She might as well get this over with. "Okay, send him in."

Sean walked into her office and closed the door behind him – an action which made Donna slightly nervous. He glanced around at the spacious office.

"Nice. This is way bigger than my office on the Hill, that's for sure."

"Have a seat, Congressman." She was in no mood for small talk.

"You've done well for yourself, Donna. Chief of Staff to the First Lady. Not bad for someone who dropped out of college and doesn't even have a bachelor's degree."

She felt her cool demeanor start to crack at that comment coming from him. "You have a lot of nerve!"

He took a seat, and she sat down at her desk.

"We had some good times together, didn't we?"

"That's not what I remember."

"It couldn't have been all bad. You were with me for more than two years. You moved in with me."

"I was young and stupid then," she snapped. "Anyway, is there something I can help you with? Because if the point of this meeting was just to sit around and reminisce, I really do have a lot to do today."

"Fine. Here's the point." His expression darkened slightly. Clearly he was done pretending they were still on good terms. "I'm a congressman now, Donna, and I think you know that if certain things got out, they could hurt me politically"

"You think?"

"Who all knows about…what happened between us? That boyfriend of yours? How much have you told him?"

"He's not my boyfriend, he's my husband."

"Whatever. What does he know?"

She took a deep breath, feeling her heart begin to pound. "So what you're really asking is…does the White House Chief of Staff know you like to beat up on women?"


	4. Chapter 3

There was a tense silence. Finally he spoke.

"I'm not that man anymore, Donna. I've changed."

"For your wife's sake, I hope so."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I have no reason to answer your question. And you know, I'm sure I could have found plenty of reporters willing to print my story during your campaign if I'd wanted to, but I didn't. Maybe looking back, I should have. But I have no interest in doing anything to help you keep your dirty little secret, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm not the only politician in Washington who has secrets, you know. There are lots of others. For instance, that guy currently occupying the Oval Office – he has secrets. At least one big one that I know of."

Donna rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I'm going to regret asking this, but what the hell are you talking about?"

"This." Sean opened his briefcase and tossed some papers onto Donna's desk. She picked them up and looked at them. They were photocopies taken of a checkbook. The name on the account was "M. Santos". There was no address. The check register showed checks having been written each month, each in the same amount, to someone named Anita Morales.

"I don't understand. What is this?"

"Anita Morales is a woman who works as a clerk at the Houston City Hall. Matt Santos hired her eleven years ago when he was mayor of Houston. She has a nine-year-old daughter, and Matt Santos has been writing her checks each month. What do you think it is? Donna, President Perfect had a child out of wedlock with a woman practically half his age, a woman who worked for him, and he's been covering it up for years. The proof is right here."

"Where did you get this?" Donna's mind was racing.

"I've been spending a lot of time at the RNC headquarters since the election. A few weeks ago, I was reading through some of Bruno Gianelli's old files on the Santos-Vinick race. Everyone says he's such a political genius, and I wanted to get a sense of what works and what doesn't in elections. I'm in the House of Representatives, after all, I'm going to have to run for re-election every two years. I stumbled across these photocopies in the middle of big pile of papers. I don't think anyone even knew they were in there. I called Bruno to ask about them, but he wouldn't tell me anything. He gave me this weird, cryptic response: 'Vinick gave the briefcase back, and that was his call to make.' But anyway, it didn't take much digging to figure out who the woman was."

Donna shook her head. "This is crap. If the Vinick campaign had this before the election, why the hell did it not come out then?"

"Guess that's what we get for choosing a Democrat to help run a Republican presidential campaign. Bruno obviously had it and didn't use it. Maybe he was secretly loyal to Santos and kept his mouth shut, or given that briefcase remark maybe it was Vinick who wouldn't use it, I don't know. They're both losers who have should have no place in the Republican Party as far as I'm concerned. Hell, Vinick's even working for your guy now as Secretary of State. But," he smiled, "this little tidbit didn't go unnoticed forever. I found it."

"And you're telling me about it why?" Donna asked, although she was pretty sure she knew the answer to that question.

"Just as a courtesy to an old friend. I figured you should know what kind of guy you're working for. Anyway, I took these out of the Vinick file. As far as I know, there are no other copies at the RNC. I have them, and now you have them too. That's it." He gave her a meaningful look.

"This is blackmail, isn't it? You're threatening me. You're saying that if I go public with your violent tendencies, you'll release these photocopies to the media."

"Blackmail? No, that's not how I'd describe it at all." he stood up and leaned against her desk, causing Donna's anxiety level to unexpectedly increase. She realized she was still afraid of him after all these years. "This is just about friendship. I think friends should do favors for each other. For example, you do me a favor by keeping our private relationship private. And I'll do you a favor by keeping the President's secret." She got the feeling he was trying to walk a legal line, attempting to avoid making the threat too explicit. "I'll see you later, Donna." With that, he turned and walked out the door.

Donna sat at her desk, shaking slightly. She stared at the photocopies. There had to be another explanation. From what little she'd seen of the President's handwriting, the writing on the check register looked like his, but she was certainly no expert. Sean could have forged the documents and made up the entire story about Anita Morales, her job at the Houston city hall, and her daughter.

Except for that briefcase remark. That had hit her like a ton of bricks. She remembered clearly that shortly before the election, there had been a strange, closed-door, five minute meeting between Santos and Vinick. All then-Congressman Santos would tell any of the staff was that Vinick had returned his missing briefcase. That had made no sense to anyone. Why would Senator Vinick have taken the time to return the briefcase personally, let alone insist on meeting behind closed doors with the Congressman in order to do so? And Sean would have had no way of knowing about the briefcase incident.

_The checkbook was in the briefcase,_ Donna realized numbly. Sean had been telling the truth. The Vinick campaign had had this and chosen not to use it. Vinick had wanted the meeting with Santos to let him know he knew the contents of the briefcase. But clearly, Bruno – or someone – had made copies of the checkbook before returning it. Just in case Vinick changed his mind? Or so it could be used against Santos at a later date?

Donna struggled to think of innocent reasons why Matt Santos would be writing checks to a woman with a young daughter. From such a strange checking account? One that didn't include his first name or even an address? An account that seemed to have been set up just for that purpose?

She knew that even good people were capable of moral failures. President Bartlet had hidden his MS from voters and even his own staff during his first campaign. But Matt Santos had spoken with passion during the campaign about the importance of fatherhood, urging men to take responsibility for the children they help create. To think that he could have spoken those words knowing he'd fathered a child out of wedlock who he refused to even publicly acknowledge…that would be the height of hypocrisy. Donna didn't want to believe that about him.

Suddenly, the door to her office opened and Helen Santos walked in. Donna's heart dropped as she looked at the First Lady. She quickly slipped the photocopies into a drawer.

"Hey Donna," Helen said as she sat down next to her.

Donna swallowed. "Hello, Mrs. Santos."

"Listen, I was just talking to Matt, and I really want to get actively involved with helping to promote his Medicare plan. We were thinking that as First Lady, maybe I'd be most effective highlighting the personal aspects of the health care crisis. We certainly have relatives who have had to go without health insurance and have suffered as a result. Maybe I could tell their stories – with their permission, of course. What do you think?"

Donna struggled to focus on what she was saying. All she could think of when she looked at her was that checkbook. Of course, even if the worst was true, it was possible that the First Lady already knew about it and had forgiven him. Just because President Santos hadn't gone public about the child didn't mean he hadn't told his wife. But what if she didn't know? It wasn't like Donna could ask her. How was she supposed to go on interacting with Mrs. Santos as if nothing was wrong?

"Donna?" Helen's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

She blinked. "Yes of course, I'm sorry. Absolutely, I think you could be very effective. You're a mother, you have young children, people can relate to you. Women especially. I think we should have do appearances, TV shows, that sort of thing, where you'd be appealing directly to other women – help them understand why this issue is so important, and why they should pressure their members of congress to get on board with the President's plan."

"I could do Oprah," Helen suggested with a smile.

"That might not be a bad idea, actually," Donna responded, forcing herself to smile. Under normal circumstances, she'd be as excited as Helen was about this project. But now all she could think about was whether this woman who she'd worked for the past two years, and who she'd come to think of as a good friend, was being betrayed by her husband – by the President of the United States.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Josh?" Donna poked her head into his office. She was still feeling dazed by her meeting with Sean. She needed to know what the truth was, and she figured that if anyone – other than the President himself – knew the whole story, it would be Josh. In her hand, she carried a manila folder with the photocopies Sean had given her.

"Hey," he smiled, walking over to give her a kiss. "What's up?"

She didn't return his smile. She stepped into his office, closing the door behind her. "I need to ask you something. It may sound funny, but I just need to know – I mean, I was wondering…"

"What is it?" A concerned look crossed his face.

She took a deep breath. "I know…obviously, just about every campaign does opposition research on their own candidate, so they'll know what's out there. I assume you must have done that with the Santos campaign, right?"

"Yeah. Of course." Josh frowned slightly in puzzlement. "Why?"

"Was there…did you find anything…serious? I mean, anything that would have been a real problem for him if it had come out?"

"Nothing earth-shattering," He looked at her quizzically. "Why, did you hear something? More internet rumors?"

"And he never confided in you…he never told you anything about his personal life that – well, that you wouldn't have wanted to see as breaking news on CNN?"

"What is it, Donna?" Josh looked worried now. His brow was furrowed and lines had appeared on his forehead, forming the facial expression that had become nearly ubiquitous on him during the campaign. "Is there something that's going to break about him?"

She took a deep breath and handed the folder to Josh. It was the only choice. True or not, the President and his staff needed to know that the Republicans had this in their possession. The only alternative to telling Josh was to walk into the Oval Office and confront the President directly, and although Donna had briefly considered doing just that, she'd supposed it probably wouldn't be appropriate.

Josh put his hand over his mouth, sitting down at his desk as he looked at the papers.

"Anita Morales is a woman with a nine year old daughter who's worked as a clerk at the Houston City hall for the past eleven years – at least, that's what I'm told. She would have been hired when Matt Santos was mayor."

Josh looked up at her. "Where did you get this?"

That was the question she had been dreading. "I…had a meeting with someone who…well, it's a long story. But the bottom line is, the person who gave it to me found it at the RNC headquarters."

Josh's expression became even more stricken. He rubbed his forehead.

"What do we do?" she asked anxiously. A part of her almost felt relieved that Josh appeared too shell-shocked by the story and its implications for the President to be all that interested in who had given her the information and why. At least for the moment.

He took a deep breath. "Well, first, I think we need to talk to the President."


	5. Chapter 4

"Mr. President?" Josh stepped hesitantly into the Oval Office, with Donna following him.

"Josh. Donna. Come on in," Matt gave them a smile, which quickly faded when he saw their grim faces. "Uh oh. What happened?"

Josh approached his desk. Donna stood a few feet behind him.

"Mr. President, we may have a problem," Josh began.

"What is it?"

Josh took a deep breath. "Who's Anita Morales, sir?"

Matt leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath. "The checkbook."

"The Republicans have it, sir." Josh recovered quickly from the realization that the President seemed to have some idea what the situation was.

"No. Vinick gave it back to me."

"They have photocopies. Wait – Vinick?" Josh did a double take. "Secretary Vinick had your checkbook?"

"Well, at the time he was Senator Vinick." Matt paused for a moment before continuing. "The checkbook was in the briefcase that I lost during the campaign. Bruno found the briefcase and went through it. Vinick, God bless him, returned it to me."

Josh stared at him in disbelief, momentarily rendered speechless. "Vinick had it during the _campaign_?" He finally managed to get out. "He had it and didn't use it?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah."

"Wow. I-" Josh shook his head, still trying to absorb the news. "Just wow."

"You didn't answer Josh's question, sir," Donna finally found the courage to say. "Who's Anita Morales?"

He looked at her. "You're asking if, as mayor, I had an affair with one of my employees and fathered a child out of wedlock with her."

Donna swallowed, but nodded slightly.

"The answer is no."

Donna felt a wave of relief. Josh, also, looked as though he had finally remembered to breathe.

"What were the checks for?" Josh asked.

"Anita Morales's daughter, Carla, is my niece. My brother had a fling with Anita, got her pregnant, and then bailed on her. She was only 22 at the time, and city clerks in Houston don't make very much. My brother wasn't paying his child support and Anita was threatening to sue him, which I could hardly blame her for, but she wouldn't have gotten any money out of him because he didn't have any. I didn't want my brother's financial future ruined – I wanted to see him turn his life around. And there was no way I was going to let that little baby go without just because my brother couldn't, or wouldn't, step up to the plate. So I agreed to make the child support payments for him. It was supposed to just be for a little while, until he found a steady job and got on his feet, but-"

"That never happened," Josh finished.

"No – well, not until recently, anyway." Matt paused for a moment. "Josh, you remember during the primaries when you told me I shouldn't talk about minority kids growing up fatherless because nearly half of all African American kids grow up without a father in the home, but 'only' about a quarter of Latino kids do? Thing is, the statistics don't matter much when your niece is part of that quarter."

Josh looked down and nodded.

"Why did you set up the special account?" Donna asked. She believed the President, but wanted to get rid of the nagging questions that lingered in her mind.

He sighed. "Because I was in politics. I knew how it could look. I didn't want every bank teller who handled one of those deposits to wonder why the mayor was writing checks to this young mother. In retrospect, I realize it wasn't the smartest thing to do – it just made it look like I had something to hide. But at the time I thought it seemed like a sensible precaution."

"You said your brother hadn't gotten on his feet until recently," Josh asked curiously. "Does that mean he's finally started to get his act together?"

"Yeah, believe it or not. I think I shook him up a little when I told him in no uncertain terms he'd nearly cost me the presidency. Not long after the election, he enrolled in a vocational program to be an auto mechanic. He graduated last year, and he's working now, even making a good salary for the first time in his life." Matt paused for a moment. "By the way, you should probably know that he had a paternity test done when Carla was born, to confirm he was the father, back when the court initially ordered the child support. He sent me a copy of the results, so we have it if…you know, we ever need it."

"Well, hopefully we can keep it from ever coming to that," Josh responded.

"So does that mean he's actually paying for his own kid now?" Donna asked.

Matt nodded. "And he's also started to spend more time with her – finally started to act like a father instead of just a sperm donor. Which needless to say, is a relief. Helen and I tried to spend as much time as we could with her when we were in Houston, but we can't take the place of her dad. And now that we're in Washington, we almost never get to see her anymore."

"Well, I guess something good came of the whole lost briefcase incident, then," Josh commented.

Matt nodded. "You'll probably think this is crazy, but I actually showed a copy of the paternity test to Arnie Vinick after he accepted the Secretary of State appointment."

"He demanded to see a DNA test?" Josh asked is amazement.

"No. I wanted him to see it." Matt sighed. "If Vinick had leaked the contents of that checkbook, he'd be President right now. It was two weeks before the election, and early and absentee voting was already going on. There wouldn't have been time to set the record straight. I wanted him to know I knew that. And I didn't want him to think he'd given up the presidency to protect an adulterer. Plus…to be honest, I think I was kind of a jerk during that meeting when he returned the briefcase. It's no wonder he didn't believe me – I was angry, and defensive, and acted like he'd done something wrong. I guess I can only chalk it up to campaign stress, but I wasn't especially proud of how I acted."

"Well, it wasn't totally without reason – he did steal your briefcase," Josh pointed out.

"Bruno stole the briefcase, not him. Not a lot of people, in the heat of a presidential campaign, would have returned it. He's a class act."

"Yeah." Josh couldn't disagree with that sentiment.

"You said the Republicans have photocopies of the checkbook?" Matt asked after a pause.

"Yeah," Josh remembered what had initially sparked the conversation. "Donna had a meeting with someone – who was it who told you about this, anyway?" Josh turned to her.

She looked at the ground. "Just someone who – found them in some of Bruno's old files from the campaign. I guess Bruno must have made copies before Vinick returned the checkbook."

"Who'd you meet with?" Josh pressed, silently noting that this was the second time she'd avoided that question.

She bit her lip. "Congressman Lamb."

"Really? Your favorite member of the new congress," Josh noted the apparent irony. "But I don't understand. Why would he tip you off that they had this? Is he a closet Democrat or something?"

"No." She sighed. "I…knew him back in Wisconsin a long time ago. I guess-"

"You knew him?" Josh interrupted.

"Yeah. And I guess he got it in his head that I might…talk to the press and reveal some stuff that he thought would embarrass him."

"So he _blackmailed_ you?" Josh asked incredulously. "What a son of a…what do you have on him, anyway? You witness him going on a crime spree or something?"

"Or something."

"You should press charges," Josh told her. "Blackmail is illegal, you know."

"No," she shook her head. "He…well, he was vague enough about the threat that I doubt it would hold up in court. Plus, it's not like I have any proof of what he said anyway. It would just embarrass the White House if I tried."

"We'd handle it," the President cut in, his eyes flashing with anger at what she'd just told them. "This is completely unacceptable. I won't have members of congress, or anyone else for that matter, trying to blackmail White House staff."

She shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, the joke's on him, I guess, since he didn't have the gold the thought he had."

"That's not good enough." Matt shook his head and sighed. "It's a good thing Wisconsin is usually a swing state, Josh, because I think we're going to want to make a lot of stops there in 2010 on behalf of whoever is running against this idiot."

"Yes, sir," Josh smiled.

"And I'm going to give the Congressman a call – make sure he knows he's incurred the wrath of the White House and that if he ever tries anything like this again…"

Josh nodded. "Unfortunately, we don't have much to threaten him with, especially since he's from the opposite party. Other than campaign for his opponent when he's up for re-election, I'm not sure what else we can do."

Matt shook his head. "How do jerks like that manage to get elected, anyway?"

"He's a smooth talker," Donna explained. "Believe me, he can be very charming when he wants to be." As she spoke, she noticed Josh giving her a funny look. She took a deep breath and decided to excuse herself. "Anyway…Mr. President, I'm sorry, but I have a meeting in the East Wing in a few minutes."

"Of course."

"Thank you, sir." She turned and left the Oval Office. Josh watched as she walked out of the room, still trying to make sense out of everything she'd just said.

"Josh," the President's voice caught his attention, and he turned back around.

"Sir?"

He was quiet for a moment. "I know I should have told you about all this during the campaign."

"It worked out in the end." Josh shook his head. "Man, we dodged a bullet, though."

"Believe me, I know."

"Sir, this is why I told you in the beginning that you needed to tell me everything. So I could protect you from stuff like this. If I had known about those checks, we would have diffused it. We would have put it out there on our terms – turned it into a positive story about you. Which is what we're going to do now," he decided.

"You want to release the DNA test?"

"No, we don't want your name and the words 'DNA test' in the same sentence unless there's no other choice." He thought for a minute. "Do you think Anita would be willing to do some kind of human interest television show? Maybe talk about the struggles of being a single mother, and while she's at it mention how Carla's wonderful Uncle Matt helped her out? Maybe your brother would even go on with her – it's the least he could do for you after…"

"I don't want my family exploited, Josh."

"It's not exploitation. We could set up some ground rules with the interviewer so they don't get asked anything too personal or embarrassing." Josh paused for a moment. "You've been helping that little girl out ever since she was born. You put your own political career at risk to do so. To say nothing of what you've done for your brother over the years. We both know that paying his child support for him was just the tip of the iceberg – you were pretty much supporting him altogether. As far as I'm concerned, this is the least they could do for you. And anyway, it'll be in Anita's best interest also. Mr. President, what do you think will happen to her if the Republicans are the ones to put this out? And if we don't, they will. She'll be branded as a bimbo who slept with her boss and got knocked up. Releasing a DNA test won't undo that damage."

"It wouldn't prove anything, though," Matt argued. "The Republicans could easily say I got Anita and my brother to lie for me."

"If they dare to publicly challenge the story, then we put out the DNA test – or better yet, we have your brother put the test. And then we hit them hard for smearing you and your family. They'll look like first-rate jerks."

Matt was quiet for a minute. "Okay. I'll ask them if they want to do it. But if either of them hesitates for even a minute-"

"We'll think of something else," Josh promised. Matt nodded.

They were quiet for a minute, and then Josh spoke.

"So do you think it's ever happened before, in the history of this country?"

"What?"

"A presidential race between two candidates, both of whom would rather lose the election than smear their opponent?"

Matt smiled. "You're that sure I would have done the same thing if I'd been in Vinick's shoes."

Josh looked surprised. "I don't have to speculate. You _were_ in Vinick's shoes. You didn't release those medical records about Baker's wife during the convention. It could have cost you the nomination – it probably would have, except that Russell didn't share your ethical standards."

"Guess we should be thankful for Russell's dirty campaign tactics, I guess," Matt responded dryly.

"Yeah, he was almost as bad as your sleazy campaign manager," Josh added, remembering his own willingness to leak the story.

Matt shook his head. "You were just trying to look out for me. You were doing your job."

"I guess it's the classic story – the idealistic politician and his cynical, hardball-playing campaign manager."

"I don't know. I think the trouble comes when it's the other way around – issue-driven campaign staff trying to prop up a candidate who has no real values other than getting him or herself elected. I've seen that happen more times than I can count. Besides, Josh, you don't fool me. You may like to think of yourself as a hard-hitting political operative, but I know you're an idealist at heart. If you weren't, you would have gone to work for Russell, or maybe Hoynes, but certainly not a long-shot to no-shot candidate such as myself."

"Maybe," Josh shrugged. His mind was still swimming from everything that had just happened, in particular the situation with Donna and Congressman Lamb. He was pretty sure there was more to the story than she had told them just then.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Tractor Girl, here's the chapter you've been waiting so patiently for! (Hope you're not disappointed…) And I hope it's long enough for you, sfchemist. :-) Thanks to everyone for the reviews!

"So Sean Lamb – he's Dr. Freeride, right?" Josh asked that night. He and Donna were in their bedroom, and Josh was changing out of his suit into jeans and a T-shirt. Donna was sitting on the small sofa at the foot of their bed.

"What?" She looked up, startled.

"Come on, Donna. A doctor from Wisconsin, who's obviously an old boyfriend of yours? Unless you really had a thing for med students back then…"

"Yeah. He's Dr. Freeride." she confirmed simply.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I guess-"

"Don't tell me you thought I'd be jealous of a loser like him."

"No," she sighed. "I guess I just don't like talking about him."

Josh shook his head. "Well, I can see why he didn't want voters to find out he's a user who let his girlfriend pay for his med school. And then stopped for a beer when he was supposed to be picking her up at the hospital. But he actually tried to _blackmail_ you over it? What a paranoid, idiotic…"

"Josh…" she began. She had decided she had to tell him the truth. It had been silly to keep this from him as long as she had. Even sillier now that he'd already figured out Sean was Dr. Freeride.

"…dumkis," he finished his sentence. "I'm not sure what that word means, exactly, but it seems to fit him. Lucky for us, though, I guess. He sure helped the President out by spilling the beans about that checkbook."

"Josh…"

"Although why in God's name the President thought it was a good idea to keep it to himself and hope it went away…" he paused as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. "You know, for someone who's so brilliant at governing – and in some ways, he's brilliant as a politician, too. That live ad that saved our campaign in New Hampshire was his idea. I was going to run a cheesy attack ad that wouldn't have gotten a tenth of the publicity. But other times, I swear, I don't know how someone so smart can be so clueless when it comes to political realities."

"He was speaking from his heart during that live ad," Donna observed, allowing him to change the subject for a moment. "That's when he's at his best, and that's what makes him a good politician, too, because voters love it. But when it comes to things like scandals and smear campaigns, I think it pisses him off that that's even a part of our political process, so he doesn't like to think about it." She smiled. "That's what he hired you for."

"And I'm happy to do it, but he can't keep things like this from me if I'm going to do my job." He paused for a moment, and then returned to the original subject of their conversation. "So Freeride is in congress now, huh? Unbelievable. Talk about your stereotypical sleazy politician. Honestly, Donna, what the hell did you ever see in him? Was he this pathetic when you were dating him?"

"He was worse," she said quietly.

Something in her tone caught Josh's attention. "What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath. "Josh there are some things about Dr. Freeride – Sean – that I haven't told you. And some things I did tell you that weren't true."

He looked at her in surprise. "What?"

She sighed. "Remember the sprained ankle I had when I came back, after I left him the second time? I didn't slip on ice. And I didn't have a car accident either."

He sat down next to her, his face darkening. "How'd you hurt your ankle, Donna?"

She was quiet for a minute. "I had a temp job as a receptionist. I was still looking for something permanent, but I hadn't found anything yet. One night I ended up having to work really late, helping my boss finish this big project. When I came home, Sean just lost it. He started calling me names and accusing me of cheating on him. I didn't want to be around him when he was being like that, so I turned and started to leave, and then…" she paused, taking a shaky breath. "He grabbed me and threw me against the wall. And he punched me in the stomach a couple times."

Josh gasped. He put an arm around her. "Oh God, Donna…"

"And then I tried to run away, but he grabbed my arm to stop me, and I lost my balance and fell – which is how I sprained my ankle. And then he started kicking me. And I was crying, and screaming at him to stop. I was so scared. I didn't know how bad it was going to get. I didn't know if he was going to-" Her voice broke off. Josh pulled her closer, and she could feel him shaking slightly. "Finally he stopped, and went into the bedroom and crashed. I think he'd had a few drinks. And I packed a few of my things and drove myself to the ER, and never came back. That was the last time I saw him until…until I saw him on TV the other night."

There was a long silence as Josh held her, gently rubbing her back.

She sighed and continued. "I know I was probably lucky to get away from him as easily as I did. Believe me, I've heard all the stories about women being stalked by their abusive ex-boyfriends. Although I guess joining a presidential campaign where Secret Service is everywhere helps a little in that respect."

"That's why he tried to blackmail you…he didn't want you to go public with…" Josh's voice was raspy.

"Yeah."

"The goddamn son of a bitch." Donna could hear the rage growing in Josh's voice. "I'll kill him. I'll kill him."

"Josh," she touched his face. "No macho stuff. Please. It's okay. It was a long time ago."

"It's not okay, Donna. He was in your office today trying to bully you into…" he paused as the realization hit. "You met with him alone in your office."

"It was fine, Josh. It's the White House. Probably the safest building on the planet."

"He threatened you."

"Technically, he threatened the President. And anyway, a political threat isn't the same thing as…"

"Maybe not, but we know what he's capable of. And when he realizes his little blackmailing scheme isn't going to work, what if…"

"In case you haven't noticed, we both have Secret Service agents following us around wherever we go."

Josh was quiet for a moment. "I want to talk to the President about getting your level of protection increased."

"Josh, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

"That's what they do when there's a threat."

"There's not a threat. He just stumbled across those photocopies in Vinick's files, and thought they might help him avoid some really bad publicity, that's all. There's no need to overreact."

"Overreact? Donna, he-" Josh's voice was choked as her description of what Sean had done echoed in his mind.

"I know," she said softly. She put her arm around him, and he pulled her close again.

"He'd hurt you before. It wasn't the first time." Josh finally said, his words more a statement than a question.

She nodded slowly. "The time I told you about…was the worst, definitely, but there were other times. The first year or so we were together, he wasn't like that. I mean, looking back, there were signs. He was a little bit controlling and possessive, but I somehow managed to find that flattering. I thought it meant he loved me and didn't want to lose me. But it gradually got worse, and eventually he started getting physical. Sometimes he would push me. Or when we were arguing and I'd try to walk away, he'd grab my arm and wouldn't let me. And he hit me a few times. Which was why I left him the first time. Yes," she added. "I left him the first time, too."

"Donna, why…" Josh caught himself before he could finish the question.

"Why was I so pathetic as to stay with him as long as I did? And then come back to him?"

"I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did. And believe me, I've asked myself the same question more times than I can count. It's just-" she sighed. "You know, you can hear all the public service announcements about domestic violence you want, but when you're in the middle of it, it's not that simple. It's so easy to tell yourself that your situation is different and the statistics don't apply to you. And he could be really sweet sometimes – or at least, he put on a pretty good act. And he was under so much stress with his med school and everything –which I know isn't an excuse, and I knew that then too, but I tried to make myself believe that it would get better once things calmed down for him."

Josh kissed her softly on the temple. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

She nodded and leaned against him, feeling a sense of relief that the truth was out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Josh glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed: 3:48 am. He hadn't been able to sleep all night. He gazed at Donna, who had been sound asleep for several hours now.

How could he not have known? He thought back to what she'd been like all those years ago, working on Bartlet's first campaign. Of course, he hadn't known her nearly as well then as he did now, but he never would have guessed she'd recently been through something like that. He'd never questioned her story about having injured her ankle by slipping on ice. When she'd later admitted she'd lied and had told him the story about the car accident, he'd been a little puzzled and had thought it seemed like a strange thing to lie about. Sure, he'd understood why she hadn't wanted to tell him about Dr. Freeride stopping for a beer on the way to the hospital, but she could have told him she'd been in an accident without including that part. Why invent a story about slipping on ice?

He should have known. That should have tipped him off, if nothing else. She'd just left her boyfriend and had lied about how she'd been injured. It shouldn't have taken a rocket scientist to put two and two together.

Thinking about it, he remembered how irritated – weirdly irritated, in his opinion – she'd been about him buying her flowers to celebrate the anniversary of the date she'd returned to work for him, in April, rather than observing the date in February when she'd initially joined the campaign. All of a sudden that made a lot more sense. Of course she wouldn't have wanted to commemorate the April date, which had probably been associated in her mind with the traumatic situation she'd just left. He felt a pang of guilt. Would it have killed him to have respected her wishes and bought her flowers in February instead of April?

Josh felt his eyes moisten. How could she have let someone treat her like that? Hadn't she known she deserved better? He suddenly remembered a remark he'd made to her years ago – which he now desperately wished he could take back – about her desire to be coupled up drowning out her sense of self-worth. He never would have said it if he'd known her history, but maybe there had been more truth to it than he'd realized at the time.

He reached over and tousled her hair, very lightly so as not to wake her. He felt new rage boil inside him when he thought about what that man had done to her. He found himself starting to fantasize about storming into Sean Lamb's office and doing to him exactly what that sniveling bastard had done to Donna – shove him against a wall, punch him, throw him to the ground, and kick him. He knew he would have to work hard at remembering Donna's "no macho stuff" injunction in order to stay sane over the coming days and weeks.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Coming up after the commercial break, Inside Look has an exclusive interview with President Matt Santos' brother Jorge Santos, along with the mother of his child, Anita Morales. They'll discuss the challenges of single parenthood, as well as the invaluable assistance Jorge's now famous older brother has given their family over the years. _

_"I don't know what we would have done without his support," they showed a clip of Anita saying before going to commercial._

"Yes!" Josh exclaimed as he, Sam, Otto, and Lou applauded. They were gathered in front of a television set in the West Wing. "Pure gold. We're going to pick up points over this."

"Crisis averted," Lou declared, relief in her voice. "But Josh, will you make sure the President knows that if he has any other checkbooks lying around with checks written to mysterious women, he should probably warn us about it? We can't count on getting this lucky twice."

"I think he's aware of that, Lou."

"So those photocopies," Sam mused. "Do you think Bruno just accidentally left them in his files when he gave them to the RNC?"

"No, Bruno doesn't do anything accidentally." Josh shook his head.

"One of two things," Lou concluded. "Either he'd told the Republican leadership about them and they were just sitting on the story until 2010, or else he just left them in his files without telling anyone, just waiting for someone to stumble across them."

"Maybe he wanted that particular nugget to be reserved for someone who had spent a lot of time poring over his work on the Vinick campaign – thus showing sufficient respect for his political prowess," Josh suggested with a chuckle.

"That sounds like Bruno," Sam agreed.

They turned their attention back to the television. Anita was speaking.

_"One thing that I think should be on people's minds when they consider the President's Medicare plan – my job with the City of Houston doesn't pay a lot, but it does provide excellent medical benefits for me and Carla. I've always been grateful for that. I know it's something that millions of people in this country don't have. But at the same time having your health insurance tied to your employer makes it so much harder to think about changing jobs, let alone ever consider going into business for yourself. Health coverage is a big reason why I've stayed in the same job for 11 years instead of trying something else. Most jobs have waiting periods before new employees are eligible for health benefits, and to keep Carla and myself covered, I would have had to pay sky-high COBRA premiums during that time. I just didn't see how I could do that and still be able to pay the rent. And I know there are a lot of other people in that same position. If there was a government option for health care that everyone was eligible for, it would make things so much easier in that respect. You'd certainly have a lot more people willing to start small businesses, which would be a huge benefit to the economy as a whole."_

"I love this woman!" Lou exclaimed.

"Yeah, she manages to diffuse a potential scandal and make a pitch for the Medicare plan at the same time," Otto smiled. "She's good."

The interview finished, and Josh and Sam walked back toward their offices.

"So do you mind if I'm out of here by six tonight?" Sam asked.

"Should be fine. Why? Hot date?"

"Actually, yes."

"Ainsley?"

"Yeah. Should be interesting. Dating a Republican – I've never done that before."

"Let me know how it goes."

"I will," Sam nodded as he turned and headed into his office.

Josh continued down the hall, deep in thought. Sam and the rest of them knew only the bare bones of the story – what Donna had told the President, that she'd known Congressman Lamb in Wisconsin and that he'd been afraid she could embarrass him in the media if she ever wanted to. Josh was as relieved as the rest of them that what could have been a damaging story for the President had been neutralized, even turned into a positive story. But he couldn't suppress the nagging worry in the back of his mind. Now that his initial plot had failed, what if Congressman Lamb didn't give up?

He sighed as he walked into his office. There was a lot on their plate that day. The President was taping two TV interviews that afternoon, promoting his Medicare plan, and they were still working on taking the senate's temperature on the issue, trying to pin down how many votes they had and which senators might be persuadable. Josh struggled to put all the distractions out of his mind and focus on his job.


	7. Chapter 6

"So do you like steak?" Sam asked Ainsley as they drove. "There's this really good place in Georgetown I was thinking about."

"Sure, that sounds fine," Ainsley sounded slightly distracted as she turned on the radio and turned the dial to a local news and talk station.

"Bored?" Sam asked with a smile.

"Oh, you're as much of a news junkie as I am, just admit it."

"True."

"So did I tell you I got a cat last weekend?"

"You did?"

"Yes. I'd been thinking of getting a pet for the longest time, and there was this animal adoption event at the mall, so just out of curiosity I went. And there was this adorable little gray cat with these big green eyes, and we bonded immediately. I couldn't resist."

"Male or female?"

"Female."

"What's her name?"

"Pinafore."

Sam burst out laughing.

"When you guys threw that little party for me in my office – such as it was – and finally made me feel welcome in a Democratic White House – well, it really meant a lot to me. It was one of the best days of my life, actually. So in honor of that, Pinafore seemed the perfect name for my first pet."

"I'm just sorry it took two idiots like Brookline and Joyce to get the rest of us to start treating you decently."

"It's okay. The truth was, I didn't blame you guys for being suspicious of me. And anyway, you should have heard some of the things my Republican friends said about all of you."

"I can only imagine."

There was a pause in the conversation, and they turned their attention to the radio.

_"And in other news, 14 Republican senators have announced they are starting an intensive push for a so-called Human Life Amendment, which would amend the constitution to ban abortion. The senators say they will hold vigils on the Capitol steps every night while congress is in session in an attempt to increase visibility for their cause."_

Sam rolled his eyes. "And the 2010 Republican primary begins."

"Oh, and I suppose it's completely impossible that those senators are just acting out of their convictions."

"Just to propose a constitutional amendment, you need a 2/3 vote in the House and Senate. The Republicans couldn't even make that happen when they controlled congress, let alone now. They're just pandering to their base."

"Thank you for that explanation, Sam. I'm only the White House Counsel, so I would certainly have no idea what the requirements are for amending the constitution. Of course they know the amendment's not going to pass now. They're trying to raise visibility, maybe start to change some minds, so that in the future an effort like this might stand a better chance."

Sam pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. They walked inside, and the hostess showed them to their table.

"So I take it you support a Human Life Amendment."

"I'm not sure that amending the constitution is the wisest course of action. But I do think Roe vs. Wade was wrongly decided and should be overturned." She saw the corners of Sam's mouth tighten, and sighed. "You're surprised?"

"I guess I shouldn't be."

"I'm a conservative Republican. I believe in conservative values. It's not like this is news to you."

"Right." He nodded and began looking over the menu, tension still evident on his face. There was a long pause.

"It's just that-"

"How can you-"

They both broke the awkward silence at the same time.

"You're a woman," Sam continued. "You really believe the government should have the right to tell you what to do with your body?"

"Not under most circumstances, no," she retorted. "But in the event that there's ever another human being living inside my body, that changes things just a little, wouldn't you say?"

The waiter arrived and interrupted their conversation. "What can I get for you two?"

"I'll have the T-bone steak, medium," Sam ordered.

"Same for me," Ainsley said.

The waiter left, and Sam returned to their discussion.

"I thought conservatives were supposed to be for smaller government. You want politicians regulating whether-" his voice broke off. "I'm sorry. I guess you probably didn't ask me to dinner so you could argue about politics."

"Oh no, you brought the topic up, there's no getting out of it now," she responded, smiling slightly. "And you just did what every pro-choice advocate I've ever heard speak on the issue does whenever someone points out the fact that there's another human being inside that womb – change the subject. You change the subject, or you accuse pro-lifers of being anti-woman, or anti-sex, or pro-theocracy – anything to avoid answering the question: 'isn't that a human being in there'?"

"The issue is-"

"The issue is what, Sam?" she asked. "Because you liberals are so concerned about human rights – you really are, you're sincere in that, I know. You oppose the death penalty because it takes a human life, even the life of someone who has committed horrendous crimes. You oppose war in most or all cases because it takes human lives. You oppose torture. You work to alleviate suffering in developing countries. So how – please explain this to me, how is it that you can refuse to even consider the question of whether the fetus is a human being and thus deserves to be protected as such?"

"It's not a viable human being. It can't survive outside the mother's womb."

"Go to any hospital in America and you'll find thousands of people on life support who would die except for the fact that they're hooked up to machines. Many of those people will eventually make full recoveries. Do their lives not matter either?"

"That's different."

"Why? Why is it different?"

He sighed. "Because the fetus isn't hooked up to a machine, it's hooked up to another human being."

"Another human being. So you admit the fetus is a human being?"

He thought for a moment. "Even if, for the sake of argument, it was, don't the woman's rights still matter? Doesn't she have the right to decide whether she wants to carry the fetus inside her womb for nine months? Look at it this way – if you were sick and needed a kidney transplant, even if, hypothetically, it had to be from me and you would die without it – I would still have the right to say no. It's my body."

"You wouldn't give me one of your kidneys if I needed one?"

Sam smiled. "I didn't say that. I just said that legally, I wouldn't be required to."

"That's true," she nodded. "But there's one thing missing from your analogy. You wouldn't have had anything to do with my needing a kidney in the first place. The woman made a choice to be sexually active, knowing it could potentially result in a child being conceived. Is it too unreasonable to suggest that when she does so, she assumes a responsibility to that child, who never asked to be conceived in the first place?"

"Sometimes the woman doesn't choose it."

"Cases of rape account for less than 1% of all abortions. And some pro-lifers would allow for exceptions in those cases."

"Are you one of them?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Yes. I am."

"So then what about a girl who's say 15 years old and gets pregnant? According to our laws, she's not mature enough to drive a car, buy a beer, or vote. But she's mature enough to make a decision that will impact the rest of her life?"

"Statutory rape is still rape."

"Not if the father is as young as she is – depending on the state, anyway. And you're starting to allow for quite a few exceptions there, don't you think?"

She thought for a moment. "It's true, a 15 year old girl is too young to be having sex. But by the time she's pregnant, it's too late – she already has. And her life is going to be permanently impacted whether she carries the baby to term or not. By the time she's in that situation, it's too late for our laws to protect her from the consequences of her decision."

They were interrupted by the arrival of their food.

"This looks great," Ainsley smiled, changing the subject.

"Yeah, it does, but the really important question is – how was the bread basket?"

"I'd rate it a good seven out of ten."

Sam smiled and shook his head as he took a bite of his steak.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I had a good time tonight," Ainsley told Sam as they walked up to the door to her ground floor apartment.

"You did?" Sam asked. "I was just thinking that I spent half the evening debating abortion with you. I figured that probably qualified me as about the worst date ever."

"Most women would probably think so," she acknowledged with a smile. "But me, I loved every minute of it."

"Me too," Sam admitted. "I guess we're both a little sick that way."

"It's good to get out of the echo chamber sometimes," Ainsley commented. "You can't really sharpen your thinking if you only talk to people who already agree with you. Although," she added with a smile, "I suppose in my case, I've been out of the echo chamber for a long time, having worked for two different Democratic administrations now. But I'm glad to help you experience that as well."

He nodded. "You know, nerve scientists once found that when people who describe themselves as politically committed listen to political statements, they respond only with the emotional side of their brain. The area of the cortex where reasoning occurs stays quiet. I have to admit, that's how I usually respond when I hear Republicans on TV. But not with you. I think you actually activate the 'reasoning' part of my brain."

"No small feat, I'm sure," she laughed.

Ainsley opened the door to her apartment slightly. "So I'll see you at work tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday."

"I'll be there. Won't you?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "But maybe…any chance you'd be interested in seeing each other outside of work again sometime?"

"I could possibly be persuaded."

Sam leaned forward to kiss her. But suddenly a gray streak darting out of the door caught Ainsley's eye.

"Oh no!" she cried. "Pinafore!"

She chased after the cat, but it had soon darted into some bushes, out of sight.

"She's gone!" Ainsley exclaimed, looking around in vain for her cat.

"Don't worry, she can't have gone very far," Sam tried to reassure her as he walked up beside her.

"Don't you know how fast cats can run?" she demanded. "I'm going inside to get some flashlights and cat treats. You keep looking."

Sam nodded and continued to search in the dark. Ainsley returned a few moments later, handing him a flashlight and a bag of cat treats.

"Let's split up," she suggested. "You go that way, I'll look over there."

Sam nodded, and the two headed off in opposite directions, searching through the dense landscaping of Ainsley's apartment building, looking for the small gray cat.

"Pinafore!" Ainsley called out anxiously. "Here kitty. Come here." She rustled the bag of cat treats and shone the flashlight into the brush. Nothing.

She continued searching until she had gone nearly halfway around the apartment building. She spotted Sam approaching from the other direction. In discouragement, she sat down on the rock wall that bordered the shrubbery.

Sam came up and sat beside her.

"It's no use," she sighed. "She could be anywhere by now."

Sam put an arm around her. "It's gonna be okay. She just went out exploring, that's all. She'll be back on your doorstep as soon as she gets hungry."

"She's only lived here five days. She's an indoor cat. What makes you think she'd be able to find her way home?"

"Cats have an excellent sense of direction." Sam paused. "Did she have an ID tag?"

"Yes. And she's also microchipped."

"There you go. Someone will find her."

"What if she gets hit by a car? Or drinks antifreeze. Or just wanders around forever because no one ever notices her. Or…" Tears sprung to her eyes.

"Hey, hey," Sam rubbed her back consolingly. "Don't think like that."

"I'm a terrible cat owner. I should never be allowed to have pets again. I haven't even had her a week and I've lost her already."

"Come on. Every pet gets lost at some point. It's practically a rite of passage of pet ownership, I think. We'll put up fliers. We'll go to all the shelters tomorrow. We'll find her."

She sighed and leaned against him, and they sat in silence for a few moments. Ainsley wiped tears from her eyes. How could she have been so careless as to stand there with the door open while she talked to Sam? She just hadn't been thinking. She glanced over at Sam. A part of her was mortified that he'd witnessed this whole debacle. He must think she was a complete flake. But in spite of that, she couldn't help but also feel grateful that he was there. His presence was calming and reassuring to her.

Suddenly, Ainsley felt something cool and wet touching the back of her arm. She turned around to see a small gray cat poking its head out from the bushes, nuzzling Ainsley's arm with her nose.

"Pinafore!" she exclaimed.

"Here, cat," Sam reached out to grab her, but the cat began to retreat back in to the shrubs.

"Sam, you're scaring her," Ainsley scolded.

"Here, kitty," Ainsley called gently. She took some treats out of the bag and laid them out in front of her. Slowly, Pinafore inched forward to retrieve the treats. Once she was close enough, Ainsley quickly scooped her up in her arms.

"Oh, thank God," she breathed as she and Sam began to walk back to her apartment.

"Little troublemaker, isn't she?" Sam smiled and scratched the top of Pinafore's head as Ainsley carried her.

She and Sam walked into her apartment, and after closing the door she placed Pinafore back on the ground.

"She really is adorable," Sam commented, watching Pinafore as she clawed at a scratching post.

"Isn't she?" Ainsley smiled. "Thanks for helping look for her."

"I'm just glad we found her."

"Me too."

"So…I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow," Ainsley smiled.

"Okay," Sam nodded and turned toward the door.

"Wait," Ainsley smiled. "I think you were about to do something earlier, before Pinafore got out."

"Yeah?"

Ainsley walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sam leaned forward and kissed her, softly at first, and then the kiss intensified.

"Just so you know," Ainsley breathed when their lips finally parted, "I'm not the kind of girl to sleep with someone on the first date."

"I'm not the kind of guy to do that," Sam responded. "Not anymore."

"You're not?" Ainsley realized a second too late that her surprised reaction could be taken as rude. "I mean, not that I assumed you were, of course, I just-"

"Well, let's just say I learned my lesson the hard way about that kind of thing."

"Don't worry, Sam, I don't have a double life as a high-priced call girl," Ainsley teased.

He blushed slightly. "No, I didn't think you did…"

She gave him another kiss. "Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight," he smiled and headed out the door, toward his car.


	8. Chapter 7

Josh slipped quietly into the bedroom, a little after 1:30 am, hoping not to disturb Donna.

"Hey," she murmured from the bed.

So much for not waking her up. "Hey. Sorry to be home so late."

"It's okay. I saw the news."

He nodded. There had been a major earthquake in Qumar that evening. The death toll was still unknown, but feared to be in the thousands. The President had been working all night on plans for an effective relief effort, one that would deliver aid to the people in need without inadvertently funneling resources to terrorist elements in the country. The effort was further complicated by the fact that the Qumari government was reluctant to accept help from the United States. Relations between the two countries had never really recovered from the assassination of Defense Minister Shareef, ordered by President Bartlet several years ago, and they had worsened further when a new Sultan, who wanted to shield his country from any Western influence, had come to power in 2007. He didn't want to admit that Qumar couldn't manage this crisis on its own, and certainly didn't want to acknowledge needing help from the United States.

Josh took off his tie, slipped off his shoes, and sat down on the bed next to Donna. She sat up and wrapped her arm around him. "Tough night?"

"Not as tough as it was for people living in Qumar." He sighed. "How was your day?"

"Not bad. You know, I didn't get blackmailed by any congresspeople today, so that was a plus."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we haven't heard anything from that SOB in several weeks now. Probably sitting around his office licking his wounds. It must be humiliating to have such a brilliant stunt fall flat – not to mention knowing he's cost the Republicans a smear that could have been used against the President in 2010 – that's assuming he cares about anyone's political career other than his own, which is doubtful."

"See? And you were worried he was going to come after me with a machete or something."

"That's not funny."

"Josh?" she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I lied to you about him."

"It's okay. I understand." His tone of voice wasn't completely convincing.

"It just…it seemed easier than getting into what had really happened, which I didn't really want to talk about, and I didn't want to upset you…"

He looked at her. "Upset me?"

"Yeah, you know, I didn't want you to…"

"What?" He paused for a moment. "You probably could have talked me out of flying out to Wisconsin and beating the crap out of him."

She smiled. "Yes, I want to commend you on the fact that you haven't yet been arrested for assaulting a member of congress."

"Don't think I haven't thought about it."

"Just as long as thinking about it is all you do. I wouldn't want him to have the satisfaction of you ruining your career over him."

"Right."

Donna ran her fingers along his arm. "You know, not everything I told you back then was a lie. When I said if you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for red lights, I was completely serious about that."

"You know I'm not holding you to that. If I'm ever in an accident, I actually want you to stop for red lights. If you didn't, you could get in an accident too, and you know, that wouldn't be good."

"I wouldn't care as long as they gave me the hospital bed next to yours."

He shook his head, chuckling slightly at the absurdity. Then he sighed. "Anyway, I'm exhausted."

"Really?" She began kissing him on the neck. "How exhausted?"

"Maybe not…that exhausted." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her as they lay down on the bed together...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"The death toll from the quake is currently at 7,000 – expected to rise further," Josh reported to President Santos late the next evening as they sat together in the Oval Office.

Matt shook his head in distress. "The military planes with the relief supplies will be there tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, sir. And private nonprofits are also raising money for their own relief efforts. Mercy Corps, Doctors Without Borders, all the usual agencies. They're hoping to get supplies and volunteers on the ground within the next few days."

The President sighed. "At least the Sultan dropped his objection to US aid. Always nice to see that even a dictator can sometimes put the lives of his people above his own personal ego."

"Even if it did come with the clarification that this in no way means he considers the United States to be a friend to Qumar."

"Of course not." Matt paused. "What's next?"

"The Medicare bill," Josh responded. "From the looks of things, we have 45 senators on board so far – all Democrats. We're not going to get any Republicans, not this close to an election year. The other 8 Democrats are on the fence. Coincidentally, I'm sure, several of them are up for re-election in 2010. They don't want to oppose a popular Democratic President, but they're afraid of being painted as big-government, tax-and-spend liberals."

"Who are the eight?"

"Senators Wilson and Grant from Pennsylvania, Senator Anderson from Iowa, Childers from Washington, Gregory and Smith from New Mexico, Peck from Florida, and Bryant from Michigan." He paused. "Obviously, Pennsylvania is Vice President Baker's turf. We've been in touch with his office, and hopefully he's going to be campaigning for the bill there sometime in the next month or two. He's pretty popular in Michigan, too, so he may make some stops there as well. And Donna's making plans for the First Lady to visit hospitals in Iowa and Washington, speak to some uninsured patients and then take some questions from the press about why this bill is so important."

"Oh, she'll be great," Matt smiled as he imagined his wife in that setting.

"As for New Mexico, you're hugely popular there, so it'll definitely be worth our time to have you go down there and maybe hold some town halls. And Florida – well, Florida's Florida. A perpetual swing state, so if you visit there and lobby for the bill, it'll be like getting a jump start on the reelection campaign at the same time."

"And there's no chance all this might backfire? Will these senators take offense that we're targeting their states like this?"

"No, most of them seem to actually welcome it. I think they want to support the bill, for the most part, but they're afraid of the political fallout. So if we can help minimize that…"

"Right. Makes sense."

"And beyond that," Josh continued, "we should keep booking you for TV appearances, maybe hold a prime time news conference, something like that. The latest polling actually shows pretty respectable support for the plan, although the results vary quite a bit depending on how the question's worded."

"'Government-run health care' bad, 'Medicare for everyone' good – right?"

"Right."

Matt nodded and looked at his watch. "Well, I think we're done. 9:00 -- not too bad considering."

Josh nodded.

"So how's married life treating you?" Matt asked as he got up from his desk.

"Not bad. You know, luckily Donna knows me well enough to be able to put up with…well, me."

"Is everything okay with the Congressman?" Matt asked. "He hasn't bothered her again, has he?"

"No. It's…under control. I think."

They walked together out of the Oval and through the halls of the West Wing. As they did, they caught a glimpse of one of the cable news shows, and Josh paused a moment to listen. Somehow, the topic of the show had turned to interfaith marriage, and a well-known, very traditional Orthodox Rabbi was using Josh and Donna's marriage as an example of the decline of traditional religious values in the United States.

Josh sighed. "Not this crap again. Don't they have anything better to talk about?"

"Well, they do have 24 hours a day to fill with nothing but talking heads."

"I guess." He sighed. "I don't know, maybe Donna and I should have just had a secular service. I should have known a high-profile interfaith wedding, two Presidents in attendance and everything, would stir up some controversy. I _did_ know. I just…" he paused for a moment. "…didn't think it would bug me so much. Call me crazy, there's just something about being called a bad Jew that rubs me the wrong way."

Matt was quiet for a minute. "Well, it might not be exactly the same thing, but I've had plenty of experience having my Catholic credentials questioned. I'm sure you remember that New Jersey bishop who wanted to deny me Communion during the campaign because I don't think abortion should be illegal."

"That got to you quite a bit, didn't it?"

"Yeah. And you know, it wasn't even so much that this bishop who had never met me was impugning my relationship with God. It was why he was doing it. It was pure politics, nothing else. Somehow it only seems to be during election years that these bishops suddenly feel morally obligated to announce to the world which pro-choice Catholic politicians should be denied Communion." He shook his head. "He wasn't concerned about my soul. He was concerned about hurting me in the election. Nothing like turning Holy Communion into a political weapon."

Josh shook his head. "It's funny. You know, I haven't attended temple regularly in years. I never pray – well, almost never. Truth be known, I don't even think I believe in God. And yet, out of all that, marrying Donna is what makes me a bad Jew. Go figure."

"You don't believe in God?" Matt looked at him curiously.

"I don't know," Josh sighed. "It probably depends on what day you ask me. But I guess when you have a grandfather who was a Holocaust survivor…" he was quiet for a moment. "If there is a God, where the hell was He then, you know?"

Matt nodded quietly.

"Why would God allow that kind of suffering?" Josh pressed the question. "I mean, you're religious, what's your answer to that?"

Matt was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," he finally replied simply.

"Really?" Josh gave him a look that Matt couldn't quite decipher.

"You're surprised by that? You know, despite all the jokes, being President doesn't give you a direct line to God or anything."

"Plenty of our past Presidents seem to have thought otherwise," Josh commented. "No. I guess I'm just not used to hearing people of faith admit they don't know things about God."

"Then you're not listening to a very wide cross-section of people of faith. Some of the loudmouths on TV aside, most of us are well aware of the massive gaps in our understanding of God." He thought for a moment. "You know, the best theologians in the world have written volumes on the problem of evil. None of them has ever come up with an answer that's particularly satisfying. I think maybe that's because we're not supposed to have one. If we were ever able to get our minds around evil as something explainable, something that somehow makes sense in the grand scheme of things – I don't know, it might lessen our horror at it."

Josh thought for a moment. "And you're okay with that? You don't have a problem with going to church and worshipping a God whose ways you admit you find incomprehensible?"

"I don't. Faith is about trust, not about having all the answers."

"Maybe. I just don't know if I could ever do that – believe without any concrete evidence. I guess it works for some people, but…" He sighed. "Anyway, forget it. If that Rabbi thinks I'm a bad Jew, so be it."

Matt nodded. "Well, I should probably head back to the Residence and hopefully get to see Helen before she goes to sleep."

Josh nodded and got up as well. "Yeah, I'm sure Donna wouldn't mind seeing me home at a semi-reasonable hour, either."

"Good night, Josh."

"Good night, Mr. President." Josh walked toward the building's exit.


	9. Chapter 8

"Good news!" Sam popped into Josh's office.

"What?"

"First you have to acknowledge that I'm the best Deputy Chief of Staff ever to serve in the White House."

"Will you settle for you're better than Calley?"

"Better in your eyes than a Republican who once had a fling with Donna? Fine, I'll take it." Sam sat down. "Anyway, I just got back from a meeting with Senator Bryant. He's on board with the Medicare bill."

"Really?" Josh's face lit up. "Maybe you are the best Deputy CoS ever to serve around here."

"No, still only second best," Sam conceded with a smile.

"What got him off the fence?"

"Well, with the economy in the tank in Michigan, and the number of uninsureds through the roof, it wasn't actually that hard. I showed him our polling that has support for universal health care in Michigan at 56%, and assured him that the President would remember his vote on this when election time rolls around…"

"Good work," Josh told him. "Four more votes and we're at 50. Can you believe it? This thing might actually happen. Man, how many decades have Democrats wanted…" his voice trailed off as something on the television caught his attention.

Sam turned to see what he was looking at. Josh grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.

_"Some startling allegations are being made this afternoon about a White House staffer," the news anchor began. "Bruce Lamb, who coincidentally is the cousin of Wisconsin Congressman Sean Lamb, is claiming he had a one-night encounter with, and subsequently paid for an abortion for, Donna Lyman, Chief of Staff to First Lady Helen Santos."_

"What the…" Sam gasped quietly.

All the color drained from Josh's face. He slowly got up and walked toward the television. Sam put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

_"We're just getting this in," the reporter continued. "Let's go now to a press conference by Mr. Lamb currently underway." A man speaking at a podium appeared on the screen._

_"I met her at a bar about seven months ago," Bruce Lamb told reporters, "She'd definitely had a lot to drink, and I could tell she was flirting with me, but I didn't imagine she was actually interested. After all, everyone knew she was engaged to Josh Lyman. She started to leave the bar, and I didn't want her driving herself home in that condition, so I offered to take her. While we were driving, she started to light up a joint. I asked her not to because I didn't want my car smelling like pot smoke. But I was surprised, you know, that someone in her position used drugs. She indicated that she uses heavier stuff pretty often as well. That's when she asked me to take her to my place. I asked her what about Josh, and she just laughed. So we went to my apartment, and well…I'm not proud of what I did, sleeping with another man's fiancée, but it happened. And then about two and a half months later, she told me she was pregnant, and that it was mine, and asked me to pay for an abortion. She said it was too risky for her to write a check to the clinic herself, and that if she took out enough cash to pay for it, Josh might ask questions. So I did. And I saved the invoice, which I have here." He held up some paperwork._

_"Did you ever ask for proof that you were the father?" a reporter asked._

_"No," he responded. "I had no way of knowing if I was or not, but I figured there was a chance I could be, so that was enough. If she wanted an abortion, I didn't mind paying for it."_

_"Why are you going public with this now?"_

_"Because it's been bugging me ever since. I mean, people's sex lives are their own business, but if she's using drugs while in such a high-level position at the White House…well, I just figured people had a right to know."_

By the time Bruce was finished, Josh was breathing heavily, trembling with rage.

"Josh-" Sam began after a moment of tense silence.

"Son of a bitch!" Josh yelled, hurling the remote in his hand across the room.

"Josh, what-"

"The son of a bitch. The blackmail didn't work, so this is what's next." Josh began pacing around his office. "He's destroying her credibility so she won't-"

"So she won't what?" Sam began to look frightened. "Josh, what the hell is going on? What does Donna know about him?"

"And he gets his goddamn cousin to do his dirty work for him." Josh ignored Sam's question. "What a piece of…I have to find her." He headed toward the door to his office, nearly running into Lou as he did so.

"Just tell me it's not true," Lou practically barked at him.

"Of course it's not true!" Josh exploded. "Jesus, Lou, is that what you think of her?"

"Josh," Sam put a hand on his friend's arm. "This isn't Lou's fault."

"Where did he get that invoice he gave to the media?" Lou asked.

"How the hell should I know? Probably a Photoshop job or something. I have to find Donna."

Josh stepped out of his office and walked down the hall in the direction of the East Wing. He soon came across Donna standing by herself, watching a TV screen that was set up near the hallway. Almost immediately, he could tell she was crying.

"Donna."

She turned toward him, and he walked over to her and pulled her into his arms.

"He forged that invoice…he's just making things up…" she choked, burying her head in Josh's shoulder.

"I know, I know," he whispered, stroking her hair. "We're going to fix this. Don't worry."

"I hate him. I hate him so much."

Josh didn't think he'd ever heard Donna say she hated anyone before. "Me too."

He held her for a few minutes until she had composed herself.

"Come on. We're going to fix this," he repeated, nudging her gently in the direction of his office. "It's going to be okay."

She nodded and walked with him back toward his office.

"Hey everyone," she glanced around at Sam, Lou, and now Otto and Jennifer, who had all congregated in the office.

"Hey Donna," Sam reached out and rubbed her arm consolingly.

"Okay," Lou sighed. "We have to come up with a way to handle this."

"The White House does not comment on the personal lives of staffers," Jennifer suggested their standard response.

"The allegation of drug use makes that one harder," Lou responded. "We don't comment on whether she's one of the mythical one in three White House staffers who's on drugs?"

"Lou," Josh shot her a warning look. He was in no mood for jokes right now.

"Sorry."

"Donna." They all turned to see Helen Santos walk into Josh's office.

"Mrs. Santos," Donna suddenly felt fresh tears spring to her eyes.

The First Lady walked over and gave her a hug. "I just heard. When you weren't in your office, I figured you were probably here."

"Mrs. Santos, it's not true, none of it."

"I know that, Donna. Of course."

She swallowed hard and looked at her boss, thinking of the embarrassment this scandal could cause the White House, and the First Lady in particular. She took a deep breath. "I didn't do what he said I did, but I know this could be an embarrassing story that could hurt the President's agenda, and that's the last thing I want." Her voice shook slightly. "You'll have my resignation-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," Helen interrupted her. "You think I'm going to let you resign because some idiot goes on TV and spreads lies about you?"

"I appreciate that, Mrs. Santos, but…"

"No buts. You're not getting out of this job that easily."

Donna managed a smile. "Thanks."

"Donna, look," Lou chimed in, her voice firm, "if we're going to be able to do damage control on this, we need to know what we're dealing with. You have to tell us what's really going on with this Congressman."

"She doesn't 'have' to tell you anything, Lou," Josh snapped.

"Josh, I get that this is hard for you, but if in this situation you can't be a Chief of Staff instead of a husband, maybe you should step out of the office while we discuss this."

"You're asking me to leave my own office? Do I need to remind you that I'm your boss?"

"You're so cute when you pull rank," she snapped back.

"Stop it, both of you," Donna interrupted. "Josh, Lou's right." she took a breath, and then continued. "Sean Lamb was an old boyfriend of mine back when I lived in Wisconsin. He was abusive, which was why I left him, and now I guess he's afraid I might decide to go public with it, so he's trying to stop me."

"Oh God," Sam sighed.

Lou bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Donna, I really am."

"It's okay. I mean, it was a long time ago. But anyway…that's why he's doing this."

"But why his cousin?" Sam pondered. "Why would he get someone with an obvious connection to him to make these allegations? Unless his cousin was the only person he knew who was sleazy enough to…"

"No," Josh's face was grim. "He wanted the connection to be there. That way, if she were to go public about what he did, it would look like retaliation."

"What a complete jerk," Otto shook his head.

"Okay," Lou sighed. "First, we need to get high-resolution images of that invoice he turned over to the media. I'm sure it's on the internet by now. Hopefully the idiot is bad enough at forgery that we can take him down that way. Meanwhile, Donna, I think you should issue a statement denying the story. And Jennifer, your response to the press should simply be that we take Donna at her word."

Donna nodded in agreement. The impromptu meeting in Josh's office ended, and Mrs. Santos put a reassuring hand on her shoulder as they headed back toward the East Wing.

"Don't worry, Donna. We'll get through this."

She nodded numbly. She couldn't believe this was happening. What had she done to him, anyway? She hadn't caused any trouble for him during his campaign. He had no reason to believe she ever would have. And yet, for no other reason than apparently just to put his mind at ease, he was willing to ruin her life.

She realized she had meant what she had said to Josh earlier. She hated Sean.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_"You know, it's been tough going lately for those of us in the late-night comedy show business. There hasn't been a good, juicy White House sex scandal since Vice President Hoynes resigned. But just when we all thought might have to resort to coming up with clean, tasteful jokes, along comes Donna Lyman!" _

Donna blinked back tears as she watched the _Tonight Show_ monologue. She still couldn't believe this was happening.

Josh, who was sitting next to her on the sofa, grabbed the remote and turned it off. "You don't need to listen to that."

"I might as well. Everyone else in the country is going to. I'm going to be the butt of every late night comedian's jokes for…well, I don't even want to know for how long."

"Donna…"

"That's what I am now, Josh. A blonde, pot-smoking bimbo. I'm never going to be taken seriously in politics again."

"That's not true."

She stared silently for a moment at the blank television screen. "I have to resign."

"You already tried. Mrs. Santos wouldn't let you, remember?"

"She was just being nice," Donna turned to look at him. "But this story hurts her too. People are going to talk about why she would have a seedy character like myself working for her. _The National Review_ already has a column on their website saying she should fire me, that it's un-First Lady like for her to be associating with someone like…" her voice broke off as a lump formed in her throat.

Josh wrapped his arm around her. "Who cares what _The National Review_ says, anyway?"

"Lots of people. And it hurts the administration, too. The President doesn't need this kind of distraction while he's trying to pass his Medicare plan."

"Listen to me," Josh kissed her on the forehead. "Once we prove this guy is lying about you, the public is going to be so outraged that the President's approval ratings will go up. You'll probably help him get votes for the Medicare bill."

"How are we going to prove he's lying?"

"Lou already has people analyzing that invoice. If they can prove it's a fake…"

"And if they can't?"

"They will."

"I could have stopped this. If I'd told people during his campaign what he did, I could have stopped him from ever getting elected. And you know, there were times when I thought about it, but I just didn't think it would be worth it. If I'd known he was going to do this…"

Josh was quiet for a long moment. "You still could…if you wanted to."

"Go to the media?"

"Yeah."

"You said it yourself. It would look like retaliation."

"Maybe. But it might be worth it. He's so afraid of being exposed – give him something to be afraid of."

"Josh, if I did that, it would be all they'd talk about on cable news for a month. The media loves soap opera crap like that. I can't imagine the President would be all that happy about me turning a few bad news cycles into a full-blown White House melodrama."

"Donna, you should have seen the President when he heard about this. He was livid. I think he was almost as mad as I was. Believe me, he'll support anything you want to do to get this jerk."

"I couldn't prove anything anyway. It would be his word against mine."

"What about the hospital records from when you went to the ER?"

"That wouldn't prove he'd caused the injuries. I…told the hospital I fell down some stairs," she admitted with a twinge of embarrassment.

"And they bought that?"

"Not really, I don't think, but since I wouldn't tell them anything different..."

"Donna, do you think you're the only woman he's done this to?"

"Probably not. Why?"

"If you came forward, others might too. I bet he knows that and that's exactly what he's afraid of."

She looked at him. "Is that what you think I should do?"

He was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," he finally concluded. "It's just…one possibility, that's all. I just can't stand the thought of this guy getting away with what he's doing."

"I know," she sighed and leaned against him.


	10. Chapter 9

Ainsley walked down the long hallway on Capitol Hill. She had just finished meeting with Congresswoman Karen Andrews, who happened to be an old friend of Ainsley's from law school. The Congresswoman had wanted some legal guidance from the White House on an environmental bill she was co-sponsoring. Ordinarily, Ainsley might have sent Brian for something like that, but it had been a long time since she'd seen Karen, so she'd agreed to meet her for breakfast.

It had been great to see her old friend again, but Ainsley had had a hard time focusing. Donna had come to her office yesterday and told her the whole story about Sean Lamb and everything he'd done. It made her blood boil that someone could hurt her friend like that. And she couldn't stand the fact that he was a Republican – upon hearing the story, she'd actually apologized to Donna on behalf of the Republican Party. She knew, of course, that there were scumbag Democratic politicians as well, but hearing about Republican politicians behaving badly always made her cringe.

She glanced to her right and froze as she realized she was standing next to Congressman Lamb's office. She started to walk away, and then stopped. She couldn't let this go. He couldn't do all that he'd done and not even be called on it. Even though she knew it was probably a bad idea, she opened the door to his office and walked in. A woman – his assistant? – sat on a chair near the reception desk.

"Hi – excuse me, do you work here?" Ainsley asked.

The woman looked at the ground. "I uh…no. I'm just…waiting."

"Is the Congressman here?"

"Yes, he's in his office, but I don't think-"

Ainsley didn't bother continuing with the conversation. She stormed through the door into the office.

Congressman Lamb was sitting at his desk, talking on the telephone. "Can I help you?"

"I'd suggest you might want to finish your call, unless you want the person with whom you're speaking to hear what I have to say to you, and I'm guessing you probably don't," Ainsley was both angry and nervous, and she found herself slipping into what Leo had once called her "interesting conversational style".

He sighed and returned to the call. "Honey, I'll have to call you back later…okay…I love you…bye."

"Honey?" Ainsley raised an eyebrow. "May I assume that was your wife?"

"You may assume that's none of your business," he snapped. "And I know you don't have an appointment, so what's so urgent that the White House Counsel feels the need to come bursting into my office unannounced?"

"Just to set the record straight, I am not here today in my capacity as the White House Counsel. I'm here as a fellow Republican, not to mention Donna Lyman's friend."

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened between her and my cousin. I know it must be embarrassing to her for it to be public knowledge, but-"

"Stop. Just stop right there. I've known Donna for nearly eight years, so don't even try it. Your cousin is lying about her, and you put him up to it."

"Now hold on-"

"How'd you get him to lie for you?" Ainsley continued angrily. "Do you have something on him? Are you blackmailing him too? Or is he simply so pathetic that he likes the idea of everyone in the world thinking he knocked up the First Lady's Chief of Staff?"

"I think you need to leave now."

"Listen, I know you're new to Washington, but this isn't how we do things," Ainsley's voice rose even further. "You don't go around making up wild, sensational lies about someone just because you don't like them, or because you think they might someday hurt you politically. And do you know why you don't do that? In addition to it being disgusting and wrong? Because it's going to come back to bite you in the ass. When it comes out that your cousin lied at your request – and it will come out, I promise you – it won't just be your career that's over. Every Republican in Washington will take a hit. You'll hand re-election to President Santos, not to mention push every toss-up House and Senate race to the Democrats. Is that what you want?"

He snorted. "It sounds like what you want, that's for sure."

"No. It isn't. I love working at the White House, but I'd love even more to one day be able to serve a Republican President who actually shares my worldview and my perspective on the proper role of government in our society. But the Republicans have lost three Presidential elections in a row now, and tactics such as yours are only going to ensure that that streak continues."

"Give me a break. You're not fooling anyone. Ainsley, you're what we call a RINO. Republican in Name Only."

Her eyes flashed. "I will put my conservative credentials up against those of any Republican in congress, certainly against yours. I love this party. I love it too much to see it destroyed by the likes of you. So here's what you do." She looked at him intently. "Come clean. Do it now. Beg forgiveness and resign your House seat. Hopefully the story will die down before the 2010 election, and you never know, I might even be able to talk Donna out of suing you and your cousin for slander and defamation of character."

He stood up. "I'll thank you to stop calling my cousin a liar. He submitted proof of the abortion to the press. Apparently you don't know Donna as well as you think you do."

She stared at him for a moment. "How can you live with yourself?" Her voice was quiet and pained. "Don't you have any conscience whatsoever?"

"Get out of my office."

"So you can call your wife back? How is she, by the way? Do you hit her, too?" She couldn't believe she'd had the nerve to ask that last question.

"GET OUT NOW!" He roared. "Before I call security."

Ainsley turned and stormed out of the office. As she left, she glanced at the woman she'd seen earlier, who was still sitting in the reception area. She seemed to be watching Ainsley intently. Ainsley wondered how much, if any, of the conversation she'd been able to overhear.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey, Josh," Lou poked her head into his office.

"Please, tell me you have good news about that invoice."

She sighed and sat down. "I wish I could. It looks like the Congressman falls into the category of 'not as stupid as we'd hoped'. We managed to get an actual invoice from that clinic – one of the staffers has a friend who, well – anyway, I don't know what to say. It matches perfectly. The same letterhead, the same formatting, everything. I almost wonder if he got an actual invoice and somehow changed the name on it – although there's no evidence of that, either."

"Damnit," Josh rubbed his temples in frustration.

Lou bit her lip. "Lamb put out a statement a few minutes ago."

Josh's eyes narrowed. "What'd he say?"

"It'll piss you off."

"I think that's a given."

She started to hand him a piece of paper. "Maybe I should stand over on the other side of the office while you read it."

Josh grabbed the paper from her and looked over it:

_Although I love my cousin very much, I am deeply disappointed in his behavior. He showed a lack of both judgment and morality in deciding to be sexually active with a woman he barely knew, a woman who he knew to be engaged to someone else. But even worse, he assisted her in terminating the life of the child he helped to conceive. Further, I do not believe he needed to make all this public. I am very sorry for the invasion of Mrs. Lyman's privacy, and I hope she receives help for any substance abuse problem she may have." _

Josh was predictably fuming by the time he'd finished reading. "What a goddamn…deeply disappointed? Sorry for the invasion of her privacy? _Hopes she receives help??_ What a…he thinks he's going to actually pick up political points from this, doesn't he?" He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. There were just no words strong enough to describe this guy.

Lou turned her attention to the television set, which was tuned to the briefing room. "Hey, it looks like Jennifer's starting to take questions." She turned the volume up.

_"Jennifer!" a reporter asked. "Does the White House have a comment on recent allegations about Helen Santos' Chief of Staff Donna Lyman regarding both drug use and a one-night sexual encounter with someone other than her then-fiancé Josh Lyman?"_

_"The White House does not officially comment on the personal lives of staffers," Jennifer responded. "However, as you undoubtedly know by now, Donna Lyman has flatly denied all the allegations. And I'm sure you've all received a copy of the statement from the Annabeth Schott expressing the First Lady's complete confidence in Donna and her performance as Chief of Staff."_

_"Jennifer," another reporter asked. "Maybe the sexual allegations qualify as her 'personal life', but what about the allegations of drug use? Isn't that something the White House and the public should have a right to be concerned about?"_

_"As I said, Donna Lyman has flatly denied all the allegations, and the White House takes her at her word."_

_"Has she been asked to submit to a drug test?"_

_"I think you know that if she had been, that would be a confidential personnel matter that I would not choose to discuss in the briefing room."_

_"How is this scandal affecting her new marriage?" another reporter asked. "To be blunt, does Josh believe her denial?"_

_"The White House does not comment on the personal lives of staffers, and her marriage certainly falls into the category of her personal life."_

"She didn't have to dodge that question!" Josh exclaimed, getting up from his chair. "I want everyone to know I'm on Donna's side in this. I'm going to go in there and make a statement."

"Josh!" Lou sighed and put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Honestly, am I going to be having to talk you down every five seconds until this thing is resolved?"

"Maybe," he muttered.

"Of course she had to dodge that question. Once we open the door to discussing staffers' personal lives, we don't get to pick and choose which personal questions we answer and which we don't. And you know that."

"Yeah."

"And if you go into the briefing room and make a statement, this is the lead story on every news network for at least the next 48 hours. Do you think that's what Donna wants?"

"No," he sighed and sat back down.

She couldn't help but smile. "But wow, you know, in the unlikely event that I ever get married, I hope my husband is as protective of me as you are of Donna."

They turned their attention back to the television.

_"Jennifer, as you know, one of the allegations is that Donna Lyman had an abortion, with documentation submitted to support that claim. I know you won't comment on Donna's personal life, but can you comment on whether the White House is concerned that this story might hurt the President with pro-life and religious voters?"_

_"We're confident that all voters will judge the President based on his record of getting things done for the American people," Jennifer responded. "But come on, people, I love you guys, but this is now the fifth question about Donna Lyman. All of you do realize that the death toll from the Qumar quake is now at 12,000, right? And that there are more than 40 million Americans currently living without health insurance, and the President is proposing a bold new expansion of Medicare to finally solve this problem? Are you really sure that tabloid-style gossip about a White House staffer is the most pressing story in front of you right now?_

"You tell 'em, Jennifer!" Josh nodded approvingly.

"Yeah, she knows what she's doing. That's why we hired her." Lou paused for a minute. "We're going to handle this, Josh. Even if, worst case, we can't prove it's a lie, the story will die down on its own. People will lose interest. They always do." She put a hand on his shoulder. "And by the way, just because I didn't want you to go bursting into the briefing room doesn't mean you can't make a statement. Put out a one or two sentence written statement supporting her. That'll get the job done without a lot of drama."

Josh nodded, feeling appreciative that he had someone like Lou to help him keep his head on straight during all this, who wasn't afraid of being a little bit insubordinate when it was warranted. But he still couldn't take much comfort in her words. Of course the story would die down, but Donna's reputation would never be whole again. And the Congressman – Josh would have to think of a new name for him, he mused; "Dr. Freeride" no longer did him justice, and Josh hated the respectful title of Congressman in reference to someone like that – the Congressman would have gotten away with what he had done to her. Josh didn't think he could stand to see that happen, and he didn't know how to stop it. It was a helpless feeling that he wasn't used to.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Two chocolate chip muffins?" Sam observed Ainsley's plate, sitting down next to her in the Mess. "Rough day?"

"I'm worried about Donna," she sighed, picking at one of the muffins.

"Yeah. Me too."

She was quiet for a moment. "I had a meeting on the Hill this morning, and while I was there I went by his office to try and talk some sense into him."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"Congressman Lamb."

"You did what?" Sam's voice rose slightly.

"He needed to be put in his place. And I guess maybe I was hoping that somewhere in there, there was a human being and that I could get through to that human being. Needless to say, I was unsuccessful."

"Shocker."

"Well, it was worth a try."

"Ainsley, he got an irate phone call from the President of the United States after his initial blackmail attempt. If that didn't have an impact on him-"

"The President is a Democrat. I thought maybe if he heard from a fellow Republican…" she sighed. "Plus, what can I say, I was angry. I kind of enjoyed giving him a piece of my mind."

"I wouldn't have minded seeing that," Sam admitted. "I'm just not sure he should be allowed within 30 feet of any woman."

"He is a piece of work."

"So anyway," Sam decided to change the subject. "Do you have plans for this Saturday? They're performing _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ at the Kennedy Center, and I know you like plays, so-"

"That sounds wonderful," Ainsley gave him a kiss on the cheek. She realized she was really beginning to fall for Sam. They'd gone out several times since their first date, and tried to have lunch together at work most days. She noticed Sam gazing at her, a funny look on his face.

"What?" She asked.

"Nothing."

"Come on. What?"

"I was just thinking…I think it was four weeks ago today that we sat here in the Mess and you asked me out."

Ainsley thought about it. "I think you're right."

"What made you do it?" Sam asked curiously. "Ask me out, that is. I mean, don't get me wrong, I 'm glad you did, but considering how long we'd known each other, why then?"

"It seemed like the appropriate time," Ainsley responded.

"What the heck does that mean?"

"Well, when we first met in the Bartlet White House, I found you attractive – I won't lie about that. But I was still adjusting to my surroundings, not only working for the White House, but working for a Democratic White House. And I didn't think that dating a fellow staffer would necessarily be a good idea that early in my career in public life – not to mention, I had no idea how you would have reacted if I'd asked you out. Then I got another job, and so did you for that matter, and I didn't see you again until after Santos was elected. At that point, you were engaged, and I never would have tried to interfere with that. And after you and Marissa broke up, I figured I should give you some space. To ask you out immediately after the breakup would have been rude, I think, not to mention unwise, since rebound relationships rarely work out. Six months seemed like a respectable period of time to wait, so at that point I decided it was time."

"Wow," Sam marveled, shaking his head as he listened to her timeline. "You really plan things out, don't you?"

"Sometimes. Not always."

A smile crossed his face. "So you've been pining for me for years, then."

"Pining? No, I don't think I'd use that word. That makes me sound more than a little pathetic. Admiring from a distance, maybe. Or let me amend that to observing from a distance. I wouldn't want to inflate your ego any further than it already is."

"Too late," he grinned.

"So what about you?" she asked. "If I'm going to be making confessions, it's only fair that you do as well. How long have you been pining for me, exactly?"

"I think from around the time you uttered the words, 'textbooks are important, if for no other reason than they'd accurately place the town of Kirkwood in California, and not Oregon.'"

"Wow, you even remember the exact phrasing."

"Well, I may have watched the video once or twice, or one or two dozen times…"

"I thought you couldn't stand me after that TV appearance. You sure didn't seem too pleased when I came to work for the White House."

"Yeah, I'm not saying I exactly admitted to myself that I liked you after that. You drove me crazy, don't get me wrong. But when a woman drives me that crazy, there's usually a pretty obvious explanation."

"So what you're telling me is that when it comes to women, you still have the maturity level of the kid in fourth grade who pulls the pigtails of the girl he likes sitting in front of him in class."

"No, I wouldn't say…" he struggled for a moment to defend himself. "You know, I never thought of myself like that. Josh, maybe – I mean, my God, it took him eight years to figure out he was in love with Donna. But I always believed I was smoother and more direct than that with women. But you – yeah, I guess maybe you do bring that out in me a little bit."

Ainsley smiled teasingly. "You do realize that what you just said was completely incoherent, right?"

"Just what a former speechwriter always loves to hear."

"Ainsley? Hey, Sam." They both turned at the sound of Donna's voice as their friend approached the table.

"Sorry to interrupt. Do you guys mind if I join you for a minute?"

"Of course not. Have a seat," Ainsley told her.

"How are you holding up?" Sam asked.

Donna sighed. "I just talked to Josh. They're not having any luck proving that invoice is a fake."

"Oh Donna, I'm sorry," Ainsley put a hand on her shoulder. "The truth is going to come out, though, it always does."

"I hope so. I was thinking…I wanted to get your advice on this, Ainsley. Do you think if I went to that clinic and signed whatever privacy waivers they might need, they'd be willing to issue a statement to the press saying I'd never…been a patient there?"

Ainsley thought for a moment. "That might work. I mean, it would depend on their policies, of course, but maybe."

"Would you come with me?" Donna asked. "I mean, I hate to be a baby, but I'm just afraid I'd get too nervous if I went alone. And it might be nice to have a lawyer there just in case…I mean, I know you're not my lawyer, of course, but…"

"Of course I'll come." Ainsley felt a ray of hope. This could work. And if it did – well, she could only regret that she wouldn't get to see the look on Congressman Lamb's face.


	11. Chapter 10

That afternoon, Ainsley and Donna prepared to visit the clinic. Donna pulled her long blond hair into a ponytail and put on an overcoat with a hood. The last thing she wanted was to be recognized by anyone while going into the clinic. Ainsley did the same, figuring a sighting of the White House Counsel paying a visit to the clinic might also raise a lot of unwelcome questions.

"Thanks for doing this," Donna told her.

"I'm glad to help, really."

They got into the car and began the 10-minute ride to the clinic.

"So you've probably already thought of this," Ainsley suggested. "But the day that he says you had the abortion? I don't suppose there's any way of proving you were somewhere else at the time."

"No," Donna shook her head. "I looked at my schedule, and it was a pretty typical day. I saw a lot of people, but no one who could have vouched for my whereabouts during the entire day. Not that I'd expect anyone to be able to definitively remember whether or not they'd seen me on that day, anyway."

They arrived at the clinic had the appearance of a fairly small medical office, with a waiting room painted in calming green colors, with a tropical fish tank in the center.

"Can I help the two of you?" a lady standing behind the counter asked.

Donna took a deep breath and approached her. "My name is…"

Before she could finish, Ainsley cut in. "May we see the manager of this clinic, please?"

"Can I tell her what this is regarding?"

"It's a private matter," Ainsley responded.

"Okay, well I'll see if she's available."

Several minutes later, another woman came out to greet them.

"Hello, I'm Melanie Ferguson, the supervisor here. How can I help you?"

"May we speak with you in your office?" Ainsley asked.

Donna and Ainsley were led past the counter into a small office.

"Have a seat," Melanie offered as she closed the door and sat down at her desk.

Donna took a deep breath. "I don't know if you recognize me, but I'm Donna Lyman. I'm sure you've probably followed the news…"

"Oh yes," Melanie nodded sympathetically. "Believe me, all of us here were horrified at the way your privacy was violated. It's no one's business but your own if you've chosen to terminate a pregnancy. That man had no right…"

"That's the thing, I didn't…terminate any pregnancy. He's lying about me."

"Really?" Melanie looked surprised and slightly skeptical.

"We were wondering if you could help us prove that," Ainsley continued. "We would be most grateful if your clinic would be willing to put out a statement to the press saying that Donna has never received any…services at this clinic."

"I'm happy to sign whatever you might need me to sign," Donna added quickly.

Melanie hesitated for a moment, appearing slightly confused. "Well…I'd have to check our records first just to verify…what name would it have been under, again?"

"At the time, it would have been Donna Moss. Donnatella, actually, is my full first name. D-o-n-n-a-t-e-l-l-a."

"Okay...well, let me check and I'll be back in a few moments," Melanie got up and walked out of the office.

"She seems nice," Donna offered nervously as she and Ainsley sat in the office.

"I suppose."

"You don't think so?"

"I don't even know her."

"Because she works at a clinic like this? Is that why you don't like her?"

"It's not a career I would ever have chosen, Donna, but it's not my place to judge. I'm sure she's a very nice person. And anyway, it doesn't matter whether I like her or not. As long as she's willing to help you, that's all that…"

Her voice broke off when the door opened and Melanie returned to the office carrying a manila folder. "I'm afraid there's a problem," she said as she sat back down at her desk. "I don't think we're going to be able to help you."

Donna's heart sank. "Please. This is really important to me."

"How can you not be willing to do this for her?" Ainsley demanded. "Something so simple. She's being lied about in public, and the person who's doing it is using a phony invoice purportedly from your clinic. I thought you were supposedly in the business of helping women."

Melanie shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I don't quite know how to tell you this, but according to our records you were seen here for an elective abortion on September 18 of last year."

Donna felt herself slowly go numb. "There…there's some mistake," she managed to choke out, her mouth dry. "I didn't – I'd never set foot in this clinic until today."

Melanie opened the manila folder she'd been carrying. "Donnatella Moss?"

Donna nodded, and then listened numbly as Melanie rattled off her birth date and Social Security number.

"This is impossible," she heard herself saying from a daze. "Your records are wrong. I've never been here before. How…he knows someone here," she suddenly realized, looking at Ainsley. "He got someone to plant those records. One of your employees is falsifying medical records in order to carry out a smear campaign." Her voice was harsher than she'd intended as she spoke that last sentence.

"Ma'am, I understand you're upset, but no one here would do that."

"May she have a copy of those records?" Ainsley cut her off.

"I'm sorry?"

"A copy. She's entitled to a copy of her own medical records, isn't she?"

"Yes. Of course."

"And you know," Ainsley continued, "It's very touching and all that you have such confidence in your employees, but I find it highly troublesome that you're dismissing out of hand the possibility that these records may have been tampered with. Use some common sense. Do you really think she would have come here today if she'd had any reason to believe any records existed?"

Melanie stared at her for a minute. "You're Ainsley Hayes, right?"

"Yes."

"I've seen you on TV. You're the White House Counsel."

"As a matter of fact, yes, but…"

Melanie glanced between the two of them. "This is starting to feel a little intimidating. Mrs. Lyman, if you wanted to have a discussion with us about your situation, why did you bring the White House Counsel along with you?"

"She's my friend," Donna insisted. "She's here for moral support, that's all."

"Sure she is. Look, your medical records are absolutely confidential. We would never divulge anything about them to anyone. But for you to bring White House lawyers here to try and bully us into issuing a false statement to the media…well, I don't appreciate it. And I promise you it's not going to work."

Tears sprung to Donna's eyes. "That's not what's going on."

"I am not here in my capacity as the White House Counsel," Ainsley cut in. "Did I ever identify myself as such? The only reason you know who I am is because you happened to recognize me. And I don't believe you heard either of us attempt to bully or intimidate you at any point during this conversation."

"Well, whatever, the records are what they are," Melanie sighed. "There's really nothing I can do. And look, I like Santos. I rang lots of doorbells for him during the campaign. But that doesn't mean I'm going to lie in order to help the White House out of a jam."

"I don't want you to lie," Donna insisted. "I'm telling you those records aren't mine. I've never been here before. Someone planted them. If it wasn't one of your employees then it was someone else, but…"

"I just don't see how that would be possible. I'm sorry."

"You'll make her a copy of those records?" Ainsley asked for a second time.

"Yes, of course." Melanie nodded. "I'll be right back."

After she left the office, Donna turned to Ainsley. "This can't be happening. I feel like I'm in the damn twilight zone or something."

"We'll figure it out," Ainsley tried to reassure her.

Melanie returned a few moments later with some photocopies, which she handed to Donna. They thanked her and headed out of the office.

As they walked toward the clinic's exit, Donna absently sat down on one of the seats in the waiting room, poring over the documents. There was an admission form allegedly filled out by her. And there were also other pieces of documentation, with notes about how the alleged procedure had gone, which had purportedly been filled out by the doctor. Those forms had her name and information at the top, on what looked like a photocopied computer generated adhesive label.

Ainsley studied the admission form. "Is it even close to your handwriting?"

"Close," Donna mused, looking at it carefully. Everything except for the signature was printed. It did look a little bit like her printed handwriting. Not exactly like it, but probably not different enough that she could prove it wasn't hers.

"What about the signature?" Ainsley asked.

"It looks…" Donna thought for a moment. "It does look a lot like mine, but there's something about it." It took her a moment to realize what that 'something' was. "It looks a lot like how I used to sign my name a decade or so ago. He forged the form. He would have had plenty of things with my signature on it from when we lived together. And of course he would have had my birth date and Social Security number."

"But how would he have gotten the forms into the files at the clinic?" Ainsley tried to make sense of the situation.

Donna suddenly looked at her in alarm. "You still believe me, don't you?" she asked desperately. "I mean, you're not secretly wondering whether your poor friend has finally completely lost her mind and had an abortion that she doesn't even remember, are you?"

"Of course I believe you, Donna," Ainsley put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to imply that I didn't. I'm only trying to figure this thing out, just like you are."

"Thanks. I'm not trying to sound paranoid. It's just that…well, when things get weird enough, you start questioning your own sanity, you know?"

Ainsley nodded, and Donna turned her attention to the forms filled out by the doctor. "Do you suppose that's even close to the doctor's handwriting?" Donna wondered.

"Who knows?" Ainsley shook her head. "I would think it would have had to be somewhat close, or it might have caught Melanie's attention when she looked at the file. This is a fairly small clinic; I suspect they don't have very many doctors. She would know what their writing looks like. Then again, I'm not sure how carefully she looked at the forms, so I guess anything's possible."

"If he has access to the files, he would have had access to other things filled out by the doctor," Donna pointed out.

"True…" Ainsley's voice trailed off as something across the room caught her eye.

"What is it?"

"That woman," Ainsley was staring at a woman wearing a wearing a name tag from the clinic, as well as some medical scrubs and a jacket, who had just walked into the waiting room. "I've seen her before."

"Who is she?" Donna asked, but Ainsley had already gotten up and was walking toward the woman.

"You were in Congressman Lamb's office the other day," Ainsley confronted the woman, whose name tag, she noticed, identified her as a registered nurse named Nancy Harrington.

"Excuse me, I'm off shift now," the woman walked past Ainsley and headed out of the building and toward the parking lot.

"Oh no you don't," Ainsley kept pace with her. "We need to talk."

"I don't even know who you are."

"What were you doing in Congressman Lamb's office?" Ainsley demanded.

Nancy stopped walking and turned to look at her. "This may come as a shock to you, but many of us who work at this clinic are politically active. We lobby our congresspeople all the time on behalf of women's issues."

"Unless you commute from Wisconsin, Sean Lamb isn't your congressman," Ainsley snapped. "Want to try again?"

Donna, who had followed Ainsley and Nancy out of the building and had heard the conversation, spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "You're the one who forged my medical records, aren't you?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"How could you?" Donna demanded, fighting tears. "I've never done anything to you. I've never even met you, and you tried to ruin my life. I could have lost my job. My reputation is ruined. Why would you do something like that to me?"

Tears had formed in Nancy's eyes while Donna was speaking. She glanced around to make sure there was no one else within earshot, and then spoke quietly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I felt terrible about that. It's just – I didn't have a choice. You don't understand."

Ainsley and Donna exchanged surprised glances at what sure sounded like a confession.

"Help us understand," Ainsley prodded, her voice quiet. Maybe this woman could be reasoned with. "Why didn't you have a choice?"

Nancy didn't answer, but just stared at the ground.

"Are you having an affair with him?" Ainsley asked bluntly. She knew she had no solid evidence to back up that guess, but it was the only thing she could think of right then that made sense, and she was pretty sure they weren't going to get anywhere with this lady by beating around the bush.

"What?" She looked startled.

"Are you?"

There was a long pause, and the look on Nancy's face was enough to confirm that Ainsley's guess had been correct. Finally, she shook her head. "I can't believe I'm even having this conversation. I have to go."

"What happened to your arm?" Donna asked, suddenly noticing a bruise on Nancy's upper arm, as if someone had grabbed her.

Nancy's eyes widened. "Nothing. I just…nothing."

"He did it, didn't he?"

"What?"

"I know. Believe me, I know what he's like. But you have to get away from him. He's going to keep hurting you, and it's going to get worse."

"It's not like that. I mean, I already…never mind. You don't understand."

"Yes, I do."

"Look, I really have to go." With that, she turned and headed toward her car.

"Well, I guess the good news is we know who forged the records," Donna commented once she'd left. "The bad news is, we can't prove anything."

"It's still a step in the right direction," Ainsley tried to be encouraging. "She doesn't exactly seem like a hardened criminal. Maybe she'll crack."

"I'm torn between hating her and feeling sorry for her. Is it possible to do both at the same time?"

Ainsley just shrugged as the two of them got into the car to return to the White House


	12. Chapter 11

"The new polling numbers are in," Annabeth announced to Helen Santos and Donna, who were in the First Lady's office.

"And?" Donna felt a wave of anxiety. From the look on Annabeth's face, she could tell the poll didn't contain good news. The First Lady did her best to look uninterested, but Donna wasn't fooled.

Annabeth took a deep breath. "The President took a bit of a hit. 57% approval, down from 63% two weeks ago. Not the end of the world, but obviously not the trend we like to see, either."

"And the First Lady?" Donna asked.

Annabeth hesitated for a moment. "51%. Down from 76% two weeks ago."

Donna nearly choked. "A 25% drop in two weeks?"

"Yes. Mrs. Santos, for the first time since the start of the administration, you're less popular than your husband."

Helen shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever understand why I even have approval ratings. I'm not running the country. I just happen to be married to the guy who is. What is it exactly that people are approving or disapproving of?"

"A lot of it is about appearances, Mrs. Santos, you know that," Donna said quietly. "People have very specific ideas about what kind of image they think a First Lady should project." _And it usually doesn't include having a Chief of Staff with a shady reputation,_ she added silently.

Helen patted her hand reassuringly.

"On the plus side, 84% think Bruce Lamb was wrong to expose Donna the way he did – falsely expose, I mean, of course. People think he's a sleaze, too."

"What about Congressman Lamb?" Helen asked hopefully. "Has he gotten any backlash?"

"He has a 31% approval nationwide, which although it sounds bad, really isn't. 26% disapprove of him, while 43% have no opinion. Even since the story broke, he's hardly well-known nationwide, so that's not a surprise. And we don't have any previous numbers to compare it to, so it's hard to say whether the story has hurt him or not."

Donna took the polling data from Annabeth, and read through the rest of it.

"So I guess you were going to wait until I'd left the room to discuss this last one," she said pointedly to Annabeth, who looked at the floor.

"What?" Helen asked.

"78% of respondents think I should resign or be fired."

"Excuse me?" Helen nearly gasped. "Who put that question in?"

"It was just included as a way to gauge people's reaction to the scandal, that's all," Annabeth explained quickly.

"And we're really supposed to care what people who know nothing about the situation other than what they read in the tabloids think?"

"Unfortunately, those people vote too, Mrs. Santos," Donna told her, a catch in her voice.

Annabeth cut in. "Anyway, unless there's anything else, I'll be in my office."

Helen nodded, and Annabeth turned and left the room.

Donna bit her lip. "Mrs. Santos, please, if you think I should resign, just let me know. Honestly, there'd be no hard feelings-"

"Donna, for the last time, I don't want you to resign."

"My job is to help you in your role as First Lady. This poll makes it clear that I'm currently doing just the opposite."

"It's one poll, Donna, based on unsubstantiated gossip. If we were in the habit around here of making decisions based on the latest polling data, my husband would have dropped out of the presidential race before New Hampshire."

Donna swallowed. "Maybe I could be…temporarily reassigned. To something lower-profile."

"Oh, stop it. How many times do I have to tell you I still want you as my Chief of Staff before you'll believe it?"

Donna sighed. "Thanks."

Helen patted her arm. "We'll get through this, Donna. You'll see."

"I hope so." She sighed and got up. "Anyway, I'll be in my office."

Helen nodded, and Donna walked into her office, sitting at her desk and burying her face in her hands for a moment. She still couldn't believe all this was happening. She couldn't believe she'd once thought she was in love with Sean Lamb. Had he been this thoroughly rotten when they'd been together? He'd been violent, yes. But the scheming, the blackmail, forging medical records, getting people to lie for him…she didn't remember seeing that kind of sociopathic behavior from him when they'd been together. Maybe she'd just been too naïve to notice it, or maybe he'd become even more ruthless and cold-blooded since their breakup. And, she wondered, how exactly was he getting these other people to help him? Had Bruce and Nancy just done what he'd asked because they liked him so much? Or was he blackmailing or otherwise manipulating them as well? Maybe Bruce was helping him because he wanted to – Donna knew Bruce and Sean had always been close. But she'd bet money that he was controlling Nancy in some way – through violence, blackmail, or maybe both. Not that that excused what she'd done. But it meant that Donna couldn't bring herself to hate her the way she hated Sean.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"That went well, I think," Matt commented to Josh as they walked. The President had just finished a health care town hall in Florida, which had been televised nationally on the cable networks. Now they were headed toward the motorcade that would take them to Air Force One.

"Yeah," Josh nodded

"See, this is why I was so adamant about lobbying reform when I first took office," Matt told him as he stepped into the motorcade. "You think we'd even have a chance of passing this thing if we hadn't reined in the influence of the insurance industry lobbyists?"

"I'm slowly learning never to doubt you, sir," Josh smiled as he took his seat next to the President.

"Oh, I want you to doubt me. The last thing I need is a bunch of yes men around me. But just accept the fact that every once in awhile I might be right," Matt returned his smile.

"Yes, sir."

"So Senator Peck – are we going to get him on board?"

"Hard to say. He's going to be one of the tougher ones, but if we can swing public opinion in Florida enough-" Josh was interrupted by his phone ringing. He glanced at the caller ID.

"It's Sam," he told the President, who nodded. Josh answered the phone.

"Yeah. What's up?...What?..._Both_ of them?...What the hell is…I thought you said last month that Scott was on board. What the hell happened?...So because of a couple lousy ads…Damnit….That's bull. It's statistical noise, his approval rating hasn't slipped. And even if it has, he's still in the high 50's. Most Presidents would kill for that two years into their term….Yeah, well tell him he can forget about the President finding time to campaign for him in 2010 if he's going to pull this crap. Hell, if there's anyone who wants to challenge him in his primary, tell him the White House just might consider throwing its support behind them….Yeah, I'm dead serious. Yeah. Thanks." Josh let out an angry sigh as he hung up the phone.

"Problems?" Matt looked at him worriedly.

"Senator Wilson is a 'no' on the Medicare bill," Josh told him, his voice dejected. "And Senator Scott is too."

"Senator Scott from Rhode Island?"

"Yeah."

"I thought he was with us."

"He told Sam he was last month, but he hadn't announced it publicly. All these independent advocacy groups have been hitting Rhode Island really hard, with a bunch of scare ads and robo-calls. Socialized medicine, the big bad government's gonna ration health care and let your grandma die, that kind of thing. Apparently his office has been flooded with calls opposing the bill. Same story with Wilson in Pennsylvania."

"So they're bailing because of a few sleazy ads? And these guys are supposed to be public servants?"

"Yeah."

"And because my approval rating is down."

"Your approval rating isn't down. These things fluctuate. If that's why they're doing this, they're going to seriously regret it two weeks from now when you're back into the 60's."

Matt nodded. After a minute, he turned to Josh. "How's Donna doing?"

"Oh, you know. Okay, considering."

"Helen says she keeps trying to resign."

Josh looked over at him. "She does?"

"Apparently. Don't worry, Helen will have none of it."

Josh shook his head. "It's just not fair. I tell you, once I figure out a way to get that slimeball…"

"You know, crap like this was why I almost left politics. Smearing good people for no reason other than to gain a political advantage, running sleazy, lying ads trying to dupe voters into killing legislation that will actually benefit them…there are days when I just think this whole thing is a disgusting business."

"Yeah, well if all the good people get out of it, it's only going to get worse."

"I know."

The motorcade arrived at the airport, and they got out and prepared to board the plane.


	13. Chapter 12

"Donna?" David's voice came through the intercom on her telephone. "Someone named Nancy Harrington is on line two."

It took a moment for her to place that name, but when she did, her heart started pounding. She picked up the phone. "Donna Lyman."

"Donna? Uh…I mean, Mrs. Lyman?" Nancy's hesitant voice come through thee line. She sounded like she'd been crying.

"Yes?"

"I hope you don't mind me calling."

"I…" Donna paused for a moment. "What do you want?"

"Look, I know you probably hate me, and you have every reason to, but I really need to talk to you. Sean…Congressman Lamb had the number for the direct line to your office, and I wrote it down awhile back just in case…"

"What do you need to talk to me about?"

"Not over the phone. Can you meet me somewhere?"

Donna felt herself trembling slightly. Part of her felt nothing but contempt for Nancy and wanted to simply hang up on her. But the desperation in the woman's voice prevented her from doing so. "Why? What happened?"

"I…it's a long story. Please, just come."

"Are you hurt?" Donna thought about the bruise she'd seen on Nancy's arm. Had Sean done something worse to her? "If you're hurt, you should go to the hospital."

"No…well, kind of, but…please. I don't want to talk about it on the phone."

Donna sighed. She wasn't sure if this was a good idea or not, but she couldn't say no. "Okay. Tell me where you are."

"I'm at the Starbucks on 16th Avenue."

"Okay. I'll be right there."

"Thank you so much. Mrs. Lyman?"

"You can call me Donna."

"I want to fix what I did to you."

"Good," she said flatly before hanging up the phone.

Donna got her purse and headed out of the office, telling David she'd be gone for a little while. Before leaving, she headed toward the West Wing. She thought she should probably tell Josh what had happened.

"Hey," he looked up when he saw her standing in the doorway to his office. "What's up?"

She took a deep breath. She knew he probably wasn't going to like this. "You remember that lady Nancy I told you about?"

His eyes narrowed. "From the clinic?"

"Yeah. She wants me to meet her. She wouldn't say why."

"Meet her?"

"At a Starbucks."

He shook his head in disbelief. "That woman has some…she wants you to drop everything and have _coffee_ with her? What the hell is wrong with these people, anyway?"

"She sounded really upset. She was crying. I think something may have happened to her." She paused for a moment. "I shouldn't be gone more than an hour or so."

His jaw dropped slightly. "Wait. You're not actually going, are you?"

"I think I have to, Josh."

"Why?" He got up from his desk.

"I think she needs help."

He stared at her incredulously. "She needs help?"

"Yes."

"Donna, do I need to remind you what this woman did?"

"No."

"She created forged medical records saying you'd had an abortion and put them in the clinic files. She forged an invoice to be released to the media in order to smear you. She was willing to destroy an innocent person's reputation – _your_ reputation – for no other reason than to help her married scumbag boyfriend."

"I know."

"How can you forgive her for that?" His voice rose in disbelief.

"I don't forgive her. I just have to-" her voice broke off momentarily. "Josh, he's hurting her. I'm sure of it. No matter what she's done, she doesn't deserve that."

He sighed. "I agree. But I don't understand why you have to be the one to-"

"Because she called me, that's why. And besides, did it ever occur to you that helping her might be in my best interest? She could clear my name if she wanted to."

"Yeah, she could, if she was willing to confess and lose her job, and her nursing license. Maybe even go to jail if it turns out she broke any laws. What do you think the chances are of that?"

"She said on the phone she wanted to fix this."

"And you believe her?"

"Not really. But I have to do this."

He paused for a moment. "Then I'm coming with you."

"I don't think that would be a very good idea."

"You shouldn't go alone. What if it's a setup? What if you get there and…he's there?"

"Then I can leave. What's he going to do? You seem to keep forgetting that I have Secret Service protection now."

"So did Zoey Bartlet. So did President Bartlet, for that matter, when he was shot."

"You're paranoid."

"When it comes to you, damn right I am."

"Josh," she touched his cheek. "Relax. It'll be fine. I'll call you when I'm done, okay?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Thank you for coming," Nancy said to Donna. Donna sat down next to her at a table, holding a cup of espresso.

"So what's this about?" Donna asked, not in the mood for a lot of small talk.

"I…don't really know where to begin…"

Donna glanced at her watch impatiently. She was already beginning to regret having come.

Nancy took a deep breath and spoke, her voice shaking slightly. "I got fired today."

Donna glanced up in surprise. "What for?"

"I…it's a long story."

"Well you dragged me all the way down here in order to tell it, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Okay. Well, about six months ago, I was in a car accident. Afterwards, I had a lot of back pain, and the doctor prescribed Vicodin. I started off just using it for the pain, you know…as directed, but then…anyway, I'm sure you can guess where this is going. I got hooked, and I couldn't stop. At first I just went around to different doctors, getting them to write new prescriptions, but eventually that stopped working…the doctors I went to started getting suspicious. But I had access to all these pills through the clinic, and it seemed so easy…" her voice trailed off.

"So you stole medication from your clinic," Donna concluded, her voice less than sympathetic.

She nodded. "I guess they'd done inventory and realized there were pills missing, so they set up a surveillance camera without telling anyone, and…" Tears welled in her eyes. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I've lost my job, I'm probably going to lose my nursing license, the clinic said they were going to file criminal charges against me…"'

"Well, what did you expect?" Donna snapped. "You didn't think they would count the pills?"

"I…"

"No, look. Let's get one thing straight. I'm not one of your girlfriends. If you need someone to commiserate with about losing your job due to your own stupidity, find someone else." She got up to leave. Josh had been right. She never should have come.

"No wait, you don't understand."

"What?"

"Please sit down."

Donna did so, reluctantly.

"I know you hate me for what I did to you, and I don't blame you. But the reason…" her voice broke off for a moment. "You and your friend were right, when you saw me at the clinic. Sean and I had been having an affair. We met at a bar on one of his trips to DC a few weeks after the election. I swear I didn't know he was married at first. We…we slept together that same night. I looked him up on the internet the next day and found out he had a wife. But by that time I was already infatuated with him, and he kept calling me, and wanting to see me, and I just couldn't say no."

"Sure you could have. You just didn't."

"I guess."

"So then you decided to do him a favor and help him ruin my life."

"No. He…" she took a deep breath. "He found the pills in my apartment one day. They were in a vial with no prescription label. He confronted me about them, and I admitted to having stolen them, but what I didn't know…he'd secretly recorded our conversation. And a month or so later, he asked me to forge…that invoice. I said no way. But then he played the tape for me and told me if I didn't do what he wanted, he'd send a copy to the clinic. And so…I did it. It was easy enough – I just came in after hours, entered the information, and printed it up. But he realized you might do what I guess you ended up doing, and ask the clinic to put out a statement. So he also wanted some forged medical records in the clinic's files. It was a little harder to figure out how to do that, but I ended up taking some records for another patient, removing the label that had her information, and replacing it with a label that had your information."

Donna stared at her, absorbing everything she'd just said.

"I want to clear your name, Donna. I'll issue a statement to the media, or hold a press conference whatever you think is best. You probably know more about how to talk to the media than I do. And yeah, I know it's not very brave, since what he was threatening me with has already happened. But the thing is… "

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

She sighed. "You were right…what you guessed before. He hit me. It started right after he blackmailed me…I told him that once all this was done, it was over between us. And he got mad, and he…" her voice broke off momentarily. "And after that, I was scared to leave. But I did, finally. The day your friend saw me in his office, that's when I told him I was leaving, and that I meant it this time. I figured he probably wouldn't do anything there, with as much security as there is, and people coming in and out of the office and everything. But he wouldn't accept it. He kept calling, eight or ten times a day, sometimes more. Today, he called my work and found out I'd been fired. And that's when he came to my place. He had a key – I'd been planning to change the locks, but I hadn't yet. He grabbed me and pushed me against a wall, and started choking me. He said if I told anyone what he'd done, he'd kill me." Nancy pulled down the collar of her turtleneck sweater to reveal several red abrasions. Donna gasped. "But you don't have to worry," Nancy continued. "I'm going to tell the truth. I don't care what he does to me. It doesn't matter anymore anyway."

"Don't say something like that," Donna told her firmly. As hard as she'd been trying to stay angry with Nancy, it was becoming a losing effort. "You can't go back home, not with him around. Come stay with Josh and me for a little while. We have Secret Service. You'll be safe." She knew her offer would take a little smoothing over with Josh – okay, maybe more than a little – but she'd get him to come around.

"I couldn't…there's no way I could impose on you guys like that."

"Nonsense. You won't be imposing."

"Your husband probably hates me as much as you do."

"I don't hate you," Donna told her truthfully. "And Josh…once he hears the whole story, he'll understand. Well, maybe 'understand' is pushing it, but…look he's a good guy. I can't say he won't be mad, but he'd never want anything bad to happen to you, anymore than I do. I'll work it out with him. I promise."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

Donna's Secret Service Agent, Jeff, who until now had been standing by quietly, spoke up. "If there's going to be a houseguest, we'll need her Social Security number and a copy of her driver's license."

"That's fine," Nancy nodded.

"Come on," Donna put a hand on her arm. "Let's go. We'll get you settled at our place, and then I'll give Lou Thornton – the White House Communications Director – a call about what she thinks would be the best way to put out a statement."

Nancy nodded, and they got up to leave. But before they could, Nancy put a hand on Donna's arm. "Thanks for coming to meet me. I know I could have just issued a statement to the media on my own, confessing to what I did. But I just – I wanted to see you. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for what I did. And I guess…I needed someone to talk to, but I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone what I'd done. But you already knew, and you know what Sean's like…"

Donna nodded, and the two women began walking out of the coffee shop, accompanied by Jeff. They'd nearly made it to the car when Nancy froze.

"That car," she exclaimed, pointing to a silver Lexus in one of the parking spaces, "That's Sean's…"

She wasn't able to finish her sentence. Donna heard the sound of a gun firing, and felt herself being pushed to the ground.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Just so I'm not taking credit for anything that didn't completely originate with me, yes, the first part of this chapter was obviously based on some recent remarks by a certain real-life politician…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Santos death panels??" The President's voice rose in disbelief and anger as he read aloud from Ray Sullivan's blistering attack on the Medicare bill.

"Lou's already working on a response," Josh assured him. "Trust me, she's not going to pull any punches."

"Death panels. To decide who gets medical care and who doesn't, based on how 'productive in society' a person is. That's what he's telling voters my plan will do." Matt was still fuming.

"I think he's going to find out he went too far. People are going to be able to see this for the work of fiction it is. It's going to backfire."

"That's what you said about his convention speech."

"Yeah, well this makes that speech look tame by comparison."

"He really believes this about me," Matt gestured toward the piece of paper that contained Sullivan's statement. "He really believes I want to kill disabled children and senior citizens."

"He doesn't really believe it, sir. He's gunning for the 2010 nomination, so he's tossing red meat to his base."

Matt shook his head in disgust. "Makes me miss the good old days, when all our opponents did was wildly distort our positions. Now they don't even bother finding something to distort. They just make stuff up, out of thin air, and the media reports on it like it's serious political commentary."

"The article on CNN's website does point out that there's nothing like that in the bill." Josh showed him a printout of the CNN article.

"Yeah, buried way at the bottom, six paragraphs below the sensational: 'Sullivan says Santos would create death panels' headline. How many people are going to read that far?"

"Well, we're just going to have to do as good a job of working the media as they do. Get the truth out there so everyone understands just how low they've stooped."

"See that we do that."

"Yes, sir," Josh nodded. He excused himself and headed back into his office, and froze. His Secret Service agent, Scott, was standing at the other end of the office with a serious look on his face.

"What happened?" Josh felt a knot begin to form in his stomach.

"Sir, there's been an incident involving Mrs. Lyman's protective detail."

Josh paled. He put his hand on his desk for support.

"She's okay," Scott assured him quickly. "But there was a shot fired outside the coffee shop she and her companion were visiting."

Josh stared at him as the words sunk in. "She was shot at?"

"We think the shooter was aiming for her companion, Nancy Harrington." He paused. "Ms. Harrington was hit in the abdomen. She was taken to the hospital, but I don't have any further information on her condition."

Josh let out a long, shaky breath. "But Donna's okay."

"Yes, sir. She wasn't hit."

"Where is she?"

"GW Medical Center."

His head shot up. "GW? You just said-"

"She hit her head when her agent pushed her to the ground. She's being checked out as a precaution, that's all."

"Who…" Josh paused for a moment. "Who was the shooter?" He had a bad feeling he knew the answer to that question.

"Well, he or she is not in custody yet, but her agent was able to radio a description of the vehicle from which the shot was fired, and partial license plate, to the local police. They're in pursuit of the car now, which appears to be registered to Congressman Sean Lamb."

"In pursuit?" He blinked. "You mean, like, a car chase?"

"Yes, sir."

Josh closed his eyes, absorbing the news. He grabbed his coat and headed out of his office, quickly telling his assistant what had happened.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time Josh was in the car and headed toward the hospital, news of the shooting and the car chase involving a freshman congressman had already broken. The whole thing seemed surreal, he thought. But maybe it was finally over. Maybe Sean was finally going to get what he deserved, and hopefully Donna's name would be cleared in the process.

_Again, we are confirming that the car police are pursuing is registered to Wisconsin Congressman Sean Lamb. We cannot confirm at this time whether or not he is the driver, _the radio announcer told listeners. _We've attempted to contact his office, but as of yet no one has returned our calls. And adding a new wrinkle to the situation, we are getting information that Donna Lyman, Chief of Staff to First Lady Helen Santos, was at the coffee shop with the woman who was shot. You'll recall that Bruce Lamb, cousin of Representative Sean Lamb, had made allegations that he and Lyman had had a one night stand and that she had subsequently had an abortion, allegations which Lyman denies. So this whole thing just gets more and more intriguing. It'll be interesting to see what facts come to light when all this is sorted out._

"Interesting," Josh grumbled in annoyance at the commentary. He stared in frustration at the red light they were currently stopped at, which seemed to be interminably long. And traffic was unusually light for a weekday.

"Come _on_," he urged the driver. "There's no one coming. Just go." The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, clearly communicating a sarcastic, _yeah, that's going to happen._

"She really is okay, Mr. Lyman," Scott assured him again.

"It's just a thing with us and…red lights," he muttered in explanation.

They arrived at the hospital several minutes later. Scott led Josh up an elevator and down several halls to a small exam room, where Donna was sitting up on the exam table.

"I'm fine," she assured him before he could say a word.

He walked over to her, gingerly rubbing the large red bump on her head.

"It looks worse than it is," Donna told him.

"I hope so."

"How's Nancy?" Donna asked. "She was shot. I'm pretty sure they took her here. Did they tell you anything?"

"Nancy?" He realized he'd barely given a thought to the other woman who'd been injured. "Um, no. I don't think I know any more than you do."

"He's crazy, Josh. He's really crazy. He must have been stalking her. He followed her to the coffee shop, and when he saw her with me, he must have realized…" her voice broke off and tears began to form in her eyes.

"What happened?" He asked her. "I mean…what did she want to meet with you about?"

Donna recounted everything that Nancy had told her, and Josh shook his head in amazement. "Wow. I mean, I knew the guy was a nutcase, but…"

"I know," she nodded. She sat quietly for a moment before turning toward him. "Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

He glanced at her. "You're the one in the hospital with a baseball-sized bump on your head, and you're asking me if I'm okay?"

"You know what I mean." She gave him a pointed look.

He looked down. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," she nodded, clearly not sure she believed him. "And it's not the size of a baseball," she added.

"Close enough."

"Donna?" The doctor walked in the door.

"Yes?"

He looked through some charts. "Everything looks fine. There's no evidence of a concussion. The swelling should go down in a few days. I don't see any reason to keep you here. The only instructions I'd give would be to keep an eye on things, and if you start feeling dizzy or confused, or notice any other changes, come on in." He turned to Josh. "You're her husband?" Josh nodded, and he continued. "It might be a good idea to wake her up once or twice during the night, just because sometimes symptoms of these kinds of injuries can manifest themselves later." Seeing the look of alarm on Josh's face, he quickly added: "Don't worry. It's just a precaution. There's really nothing to worry about."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After receiving some paperwork and further instructions, Donna was discharged from the hospital. But she wasn't about to leave, not until she got some information about Nancy. She found a waiting area and approached the woman at the desk.

"Excuse me," she began. "I want to find out about a patient named Nancy Harrington. She was brought in here a little while ago. She'd been shot. Can you tell me-"

"Are you family?" The lady behind the counter asked.

"No. I-"

"I'm sorry. We can only discuss patients' medical information with immediate family members."

Donna sighed quietly in frustration. She had no idea where Nancy's family lived, or for that matter, if she even had any family. "Isn't there any way-"

"There isn't, I'm sorry."

Donna paused for a moment. "Could you tell her…I assume she's probably in surgery. When…if…when she wakes up, could you tell her I'm here and that I'd like to see her? My name is Donna Lyman."

The woman paused for a moment. "I'll see what I can do."

Josh put an arm around Donna's shoulder and led her to the chairs. Donna got out her cell phone to call the First Lady. She knew news of what had happened would be all over the White House by now, and she wanted to reassure everyone that she was fine.

After talking to her assistant, David, and then to Helen Santos, Donna leaned back in the chair. She glanced up at the television that was mounted on the wall, where news helicopters were still following Sean's car as it drove down the highway.

"Look at that," she commented. "Is he really that stupid? Does he honestly think he's going to get away?"

"Donna, he just tried to kill someone," Josh pointed out. "They've got him on attempted murder. Do you really think he's going to just surrender?"

Donna sat quietly for a moment, watching Josh as he stared at the TV screen. She reached up and lightly tousled his hair.

"I love you," she said quietly.

He turned toward her, looking mildly surprised.

"I don't think I say that often enough. I really love you."

He kissed her on the top of her head. "I love you too."

"I don't know how I would have gotten though…all of this…without you. Really. You've been a rock."

"A rock?" He smiled slightly. "I've been called a lot of things in my life, but 'rock' isn't a term that usually comes up."

"When it really counts, you are." She smiled and leaned against him.

Their attention turned back to the TV. Sean appeared to have blown out a tire on his car, and sparks were flying as the bare metal of the wheel scraped the pavement. Clearly not wanting to give up, he attempted to continue to drive the car in that condition for awhile before finally easing toward the side of the road. Police cars quickly surrounded his vehicle, and officers got out of the cars with their guns drawn.

It didn't take long for Sean to step out of the car, his hands in the air. He quickly got onto the ground, as instructed by police, and was handcuffed.

_And the chase appears to have ended without incident,_ the TV anchor said as the camera zoomed in on Sean being led handcuffed toward one of the patrol cars. _Now that we're getting a good look at the driver, we can confirm that it is in fact Wisconsin Congressman Sean Lamb. This is shaping up to be quite the political drama._

"Okay, I admit it," Donna said, glancing over at Josh. "I'm really, really enjoying the sight of him being led away in handcuffs."

"I just wish we had popcorn," Josh added.

Still, Donna reminded herself, it wasn't over yet. She had no idea how seriously Nancy had been injured. She had been conscious and talking at the scene after the shooting, but that didn't necessarily mean she was going to be okay. Donna knew she'd be lying if she didn't admit that part of her concern for Nancy was selfish; she wanted Nancy to tell people what she had done and end this whole nightmare once and for all. But, almost despite herself, she had also begun to care about the other woman. What Nancy had done was awful, maybe unforgivable, but she had been blackmailed into doing it. Sean was the truly evil one, not Nancy.

She leaned against Josh, settling in for what she knew would probably be a long wait for Nancy to come out of surgery, at which point they might have a chance at finding out how she was doing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They had been sitting in the waiting room for several hours when the woman Donna had spoken to behind the desk approached her.

"I passed your message along to the nurse in charge of treating Ms. Harrington," she told Donna. "Ms. Harrington has given us permission to tell you she's out of surgery, and that she'd like very much to see you."

The lady gave her Nancy's room number, and Donna made her way through the maze of hospital hallways before finally arriving at room 8214.

"Hey," she smiled softly as she walked into Nancy's room. Nancy still appeared somewhat drowsy from the anesthesia, but otherwise looked better than Donna had expected. Certainly better than she had that afternoon, lying on the pavement after having been shot.

"How are you doing?" Donna asked.

"Okay," she responded. "The doctors said I was pretty lucky. The bullet didn't hit anything major."

Donna nodded and sat down on a chair next to her. "Sean's been arrested," she told her. "He led police on a car chase before one of his tires blew out and they caught him."

"A car chase?" Nancy couldn't help but smile a little bit. "News helicopters following him down the highway and everything?"

"Yep."

Nancy shook her head. "Somehow that fits. By the way," she looked at Donna, "I've already been getting calls from the news media. I told ABC News they could come in and do an interview as soon as the doctors say it's okay. I'm going to tell them everything."

Donna shook her head. "I still can't believe this. I can't believe he did this. It's all so absurd. I was never planning on telling people about…what happened with us, anyway. I'd put it behind me, and then all of a sudden he's back in my life, threatening me, and then when that didn't work trying to destroy my reputation. It just doesn't make any sense."

"He hit you too, didn't he?" Nancy asked.

Donna nodded quietly.

"I figured that's what it was. He never told me, exactly, of course. He just said you were a bitter ex-girlfriend, and he thought you might try to make trouble for him. But he was so pleased with himself, at first. He said he had proof that the President had had an affair – he wouldn't tell me what exactly the proof was, and I couldn't help but think it was a little ironic how smug he was about that idea, given that, well, obviously marital fidelity isn't exactly his strong suit either – but he said he had this proof and he could use it to make sure you didn't, in his words, try to smear him."

"The President didn't have an affair," Donna clarified quickly.

Nancy nodded. "I figured his 'proof' had probably fizzled. A couple days later, he watched this interview with the President's brother, and after that everything changed. He was so pissed. He started talking about you all the time. He was afraid you'd want to get even with him for having tried to blackmail you. He really started getting obsessed. It was a couple weeks later that he played that tape for me and demanded that I forge those records. Although he'd actually recorded the tape before the interview. Before he even knew whether he was ever going to need it. I think he just likes to have things on people. He likes to be able to control them. That's what I think scared him about you – he couldn't control you. He couldn't stand the fact that you were in such a high-level position at the White House. He likes to be the one with all the power, not his wife, or his girlfriends, and certainly not his ex-girlfriends. I think he was actually pretty mad that you didn't get fired over the whole thing."

"What about Bruce?" Donna asked curiously. "Was he blackmailing him too?"

"I don't think so. Bruce is almost as bad as Sean, from what I can tell. He seemed to be a pretty willing participant in the whole thing."

"Do you know anything about his wife?" Donna asked quietly, remembering that there was yet another woman who was entangled with this man.

"Not a lot. He told me all the typical stuff. It was a loveless marriage and all that. I really actually feel sorry for her, being married to someone like that."

"Maybe once all this breaks, it'll be enough of a wake-up call that she'll get away from him."

"If this doesn't do it, nothing will."

Donna nodded. She spent a few more minutes talking to Nancy before saying goodbye and rejoining Josh in the waiting room. They left the hospital and headed back to the White House together.


	15. Epilogue

**~November 2, 2010~**

_"And now, as polls close on the West Coast, our network is now projecting that Matthew Santos has won re-election as President of the United States. He defeats West Virginia Governor Ray Sullivan…"_

The rest of the news anchor's words were drowned out as the room erupted into cheers.

"We did it!" Josh practically shrieked to Donna. He pulled her into his arms, lifting her off her feet and spinning her.

"Was there ever any doubt?"

"None whatsoever."

"Which would be why your eyebrows have been permanently molded into that adorable furrowed position for the past six months."

"Hey, you know…as soon as you start thinking you can't lose, you're screwed. I couldn't not worry."

Josh caught the President's eye from several feet away, and Matt mouthed the words "thank you", bringing back memories of that victorious but bittersweet night four years ago.

The room quieted down, and attention turned once again to the television.

_"President Santos has enjoyed relatively strong approval ratings throughout most of his presidency, but his – what looks to be a commanding victory tonight is being credited by many pundits in large part to his passage of a sweeping expansion of Medicare, opening the government program to all US citizens, regardless of age…"_

"Political capital well spent, wouldn't you say?" Matt commented, walking up to Josh.

"Yes, sir."

"You know the best part of this?"

"What's that?"

"I never have to go through another election ever again."

"Oh come on…it's kinda fun."

"Maybe to you," Matt smiled.

"Sir?" Ronna walked up to the President, holding a cell phone. "Governor Sullivan is on the line for you."

Josh couldn't help but smile as he watched Matt take the phone, feeling a sudden wave of appreciation that in the four presidential elections he'd been a part of, his candidate had never had to be the one to make that election night phone call.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Standing at the opposite end of the room, Sam slipped an arm around Ainsley's shoulder.

"Congratulations," she said to him with a smile that didn't seem entirely forced.

He gazed at her and smiled back, remembering their breakfast together that morning:

_"Look, obviously one of us is going to be unhappy with how things turn out tonight…"_

_She'd given him a withering look. "Oh, don't bother pretending there's any suspense as to which one of us that's going to be."_

_"Oh no. I've learned better than to take an election result for granted. Last time I did that, I had to go outside in 25 degree weather, turn around three times, spit, and curse."_

_"What?"_

_"Never mind. The point is-"_

_"What is your point, Sam?"_

_"My point is this. I'm hoping this can be a good day, a day to remember, for the both of us. Maybe that sounds a little presumptuous, but look at it this way: if it doesn't work out the way I'm hoping, at least you'll have the satisfaction of knowing I'll be miserable regardless of how the election turns out." he remembered feeling his face flush as he'd searched for the right words. At that point, he'd have settled for coherent words. This wasn't going at all how he'd rehearsed it._

_"Sam, what on earth are you-" Ainsley's voice had broken off when she saw him pull a small black jewelry box from his pocket. "Sam…"_

_"Ainsley Hayes, will you marry me?" _

Ainsley smiled at him, more broadly now, leaning against him and fingering the stunningly beautiful diamond ring that now graced her left hand.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_"Turning to the other races we're following this evening, it appears as though the Democrats are poised to expand their majority in the House. In one closely watched race, we are now ready to call the Wisconsin 2nd congressional district for the Democratic challenger, Mary Anderson. You might remember that this particular House seat got national attention a few years ago when egregious behavior on the part of then-Representative Sean Lamb came to light. After a shocking incident in which he shot and attempted to kill a woman he'd been having an extramarital affair with, it was revealed that he'd engineered a plot to smear the reputation of the First Lady's Chief of Staff, who he'd apparently once dated, for fear of what she might tell the press about him. Shortly after his arrest, his wife filed for divorce, citing not only his infidelity but also a long pattern of physical abuse. Lamb was forced to resign his House seat and was convicted on a number of charges, including attempted murder, blackmail, and forging medical records. This incident not only obviously destroyed Representative Lamb's political career, but also did substantial damage to the reputation of the Republican Party as a whole, which it could be argued may have contributed to the Democratic victories we're seeing tonight."_

Nancy Harrington watched the election results from the privacy of her apartment. To say it had been the worst two years of her life would be an understatement. The DA had agreed not to charge her with the forgery of medical records in exchange for her testimony against Sean, but she'd served several months in prison for the theft of the medication from the clinic. After that, she'd enrolled in a drug treatment program, and had been clean for more than a year. But things were still tough. She'd lost her nursing license, and with her criminal record no hospital would hire her. After a lot of temp office work, she'd finally found a steady job as a receptionist at a health insurance company. The salary wasn't great, but at least it was enough for her to start getting back on her feet.

The one thought that had comforted her through all of this was the image of Sean sitting in a jail cell. He'd tried to kill her. That thought still shook her whenever she let it sink in. He'd hidden a cell phone with GPS in her car to track her whereabouts, which was how he'd known to find her at the coffee shop. And he'd had a gun in his glove compartment, and just because he'd seen her talking to Donna…

She smiled as she thought about Donna. Certainly she and everyone else at the White House must be having a fantastic night tonight. And Nancy was happy, too. She'd always been a Democrat, and from what she'd seen of Donna and her friends and coworkers, she knew there were good people currently running the Executive Branch. The country would be better off with four more years of President Santos' leadership. And, she finally had some hope that four years from now, she'd be in a better place as well.

She turned her attention back to the television, which was now airing President Santos' victory speech:

_"…Over the past four years, we've provided health insurance coverage to all Americans. We've taken significant steps to reform our education system. But more needs to be done, much more. With your help, over the next four years we can bring down the deficit. We can finally seriously address poverty and homelessness in this country. We can use our status as the last remaining superpower to help bring peace and stability to areas of the world that currently know neither. In short, with your help, in four years we can all be better off than we are today."_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed this story! It's been great fun to write.**


End file.
